


The Disastrous Duo

by prettysicknasty



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gravity Falls is a city, Human Bill Cipher, M/M, Mild Language, Out of Character, i'll write smut if requested but i dont have any planned already, super hero/villain au, their superhero names are wierd dont judge me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 00:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettysicknasty/pseuds/prettysicknasty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper knew that being a superhero wasn't easy. But in every comic he's read, the superhero always wins. So really, whats the worst that could happen?</p><p>*ON HIATUS*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I: Origins

Dipper had nothing against coffee. It was a necessity for late night study sessions and the mornings after, when he couldn’t function or form any rational thoughts. Coffee awakened him from the dead, metaphorically, and gave him the strength to keep up with his sister's boundless energy.

However, when Mabel and coffee are put together, the vivacity that bursts from the combo is too much for Dipper to handle. That’s why, when Mabel pointed out the small café, almost concealed by the bolder shops surrounding it, he braced himself for the worst.

He loved his sister, he really did. But adding caffeine to their previously peaceful morning was a terrible idea. A really, really terrible idea that Dipper was powerless to stop. 

This was the thought that was on repeat in his head as Mabel enthusiastically dragged him, sulking, into the little shop.

"Come on, frowny pants! You wouldn't drink my Mabel Juice, this is our only other option." Her smile usually lit up the room, but now all he noticed is the deviousness it held. 

"I don’t think Mabel Juice even classifies as a drink." 

She pouted at him but said nothing. He's right. Whatever that toxic concoction is, it's definitely not a drink.

The café itself was not unpleasant, although it was a huge contrast from the decor on the outside. The walls were painted over with murals, most likely done by local artists that displayed the things Gravity Falls is best known for. Which means it was filled with artfully done tourist traps. Glass bulbs hung down from the ceiling, flooding the room with a golden light that made it look sun bathed. Despite the crisp autumn air outside, Dipper felt warm as he soaked in the setting's radiance. The floor was a normal light blue tile that somehow worked with the sunny color scheme and added certain calmness to the otherwise delightful atmosphere. 

Dipper hadn’t been inside such a beautiful café in all of his college career, usually settling for the stale sludge that was served free in the lobby of his dorm. It was quite an improvement, and he almost forgot the impending disaster soon to come from his caffeine induced sister. 

Behind the counter that was situated a few steps away from the door, sat a bored looking cashier who was uninterestedly flipping the pages of a magazine.

His fluffy blonde hair framed his face, and made his full cheeks comparable to those of a cherub. Dipper thought that maybe he was an angel, or a demon in disguise. Come to Earth to tempt those of weak will. Well, if this was a test of resisting temptation, Dipper's already failed it. 

He was wearing a light yellow sweater with an eye design in the center of it. Dipper knew Mabel appreciated the craftsmanship of a fellow sweater enthusiast, if the small squeal that came from his right was any indication.

It wasn't uncommon for Dipper to 'fall in love' with every stranger he makes eye contact with in the street. Those few seconds were just that however, coming and going and never seen or acknowledged again. That’s just how life worked for the unsociable.

This though, this was different. Dipper could feel it as the bell on the door jingled and the employees round eyes flitted up, only to lock eyes with his own. Dipper felt it as he saw the man's overdone smile and straightening up from his previously relaxed posture. And Dipper felt the dreadfully familiar beginnings of his potential downfall, soon to be caused by the angel behind the register.

Mabel was always teasing him about how easily he feels infatuated with the people he encounters, and although he denies everything, he knows that she's right. She's one to talk however, considering how often the two would talk about the crushes that often infect them. Maybe it's a family trait. 

It wasn't his fault though, he just really liked people. That might explain why he loves to save people so much, and protect the city he loves.

Sometimes Dipper forgets that he's a 'superhero' to the people of Gravity Falls. It doesn't cross his mind as often as anyone would think. Unless someone’s in danger or needs help in some way, he ignores that he is the cities most unwanted savior. It's easier to pretend that his other life doesn't exist, even though it does in the most frustrating way. But with how consistent his call to justice is, he thinks about it more often than he'd like to. 

Separating his secret life from the life of a student was one of the hardest things that Dipper has ever had to deal with. Not the absolute hardest, but it's up there. 

The stress of holding the safety of a whole city on his shoulders, the never ending lies and excuses, the dread of one day losing himself to the monsters, or worse, losing his family to them. 

Nothing could have prepared him for what this involved. He's been physically and mentally drained ever since this began. 

His magic spells take practice that consumes most of the rare free time he has. What with learning the words, focusing the flow of his energy, enchanting magical items, and controlling the ever present threat of severe anxiety that looms over him like gray clouds before a powerful storm, he feels more and more unsure of whether or not he can handle the responsibility that comes with being the only notable protector of the city. 

There really isn’t any backing out now though. Dipper put himself into this for life and he won't ever get a break until either he or the monsters give up. He just wishes he could do better for this city. It deserved better.

He was gradually pulled out of his self-depreciative thoughts by Mabel repeatedly poking his cheek. 

"Diippper, Dippy, Dip 'n dots. Hello, is the weaker twin here?" 

"Weaker twin? What?" His mind was suddenly propelled back into the real world. 

Shaking himself out of the existential crisis he was on the verge of, he became uncomfortably aware of his surroundings and realized that the blonde barista was waiting for him to place his order. Dipper realized, with an anxious twitch, that he'd been staring into space. Space that just so happened to be right in the hot employee's direction. 

His cheeks flushed as he realized the cashier didn't have the overly happy smile on his face anymore, but instead a one of tired annoyance. It's barely been five minutes and the guy is already done with Dipper's shit.

"Oh, sorry. Um... An iced coffee, I guess. Please. Thanks." He managed to mumble out, nervously running a hand through his hair. No matter who it is, it seems that Dipper will never be able to talk like a normal human being, instead always stumbling over his words and saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

He felt even more feeble when he noticed Mabel's conniving grin out of the corner of his eye. Exasperated, he had to hold himself back from shrinking in on himself in embarrassment. She knows all his signs of a crush.

He couldn't stop the light blush that had already spread onto his cheeks, he had to turn his head away from the both of them, imagining himself to be anywhere other than here. It didn't work.

When the blonde came back with their coffees in hand, all he wanted to do was pay, leave, and go back to his dorm to practice magic or some other distracting activity. 

Unfortunately, Mabel decided to take it upon herself to flirt for Dipper, with the obviously-out-of-his-league guy who he'd barely spoken to.

"Hey!" Her eyes flickered down to his name tag for less than a second.

"So, Bill," Emphasizing his name with a wide smile "Got any plans for after work? My brother Dipper," Oh god, she winked. "And I wanted to go glow in the dark mini golfing with a friend, but then the teams will be uneven. Want to be our extra player?" The grin didn’t leave her face. Even when she pulls Dipper, unwillingly, directly in front of Bill.

His smile was bashful and very awkward, as it's his automatic response when any attention gets centered on him. These kind of situations never ended well.

"I'd love to, Shooting Star." Bill's mouth lifted at the corners in a smirk. He had no idea where the nickname had come from, but drawing attention to himself simply to quell his curiosity was not something that he felt inclined to do.

The blonde jumped over the counter, shocking him into almost tumbling backwards. Mabel caught his arm in time to stop the fall, but it was obvious what would’ve happened if she hadn’t been quick enough. Apparently trying to hide his blunder made it more noticeable, and Bill snickered lightly, looking at him with a sly expression.

"It looks like I’m free from this exhausting labor right now, actually." He swayed his body over to the door and gracefully flipped the OPEN sign to the other side. Every movement of his body was intended. Nothing about him held any hesitance, completely opposite of Dipper's own stammering flesh cage.

Not that he's jealous, it's quite the opposite really. He admires Bill, in the most not creepy way he can. He wonders if that confidence extends to everything else Bill does.

The walk to the mini golf place would have been incredibly awkward if it wasn't for Mabel's incessant chatter. Well, Dipper still felt awkward but at least it looked like Bill wasn't getting the vibe. In fact, he was responding to Mabel's animated rants with equal, if not even more excitement. They completely forgot Dipper was there at all, they were too busy making friends of each other.

He wasn't feeling jealous at all. Nope, never. There was absolutely no jealousy coming from him in any way. He didn't feel at all inadequate when Mabel made Bill laugh. Neither of them noticed Dipper walking slightly apart from them with his hands in his pockets and head down in shame. 

Not even he could convince his own thoughts. He sighed, shrugging in on himself more. Sure he was a superhero on the side, but without the mask on he was just Mabel's spindly brother who faded in the background of every gathering. Her light would always overpower his if it were between the two. The only time he is ever useful to anyone is if people don't even know it’s him. If he's wearing a mask.

He couldn't help letting out a sigh of relief as the neon lights of the mini golf's sign came into view. The sooner this social interaction was over with, the better he would feel. 

"I cant wait to beat the two of you into the ground!" Mabel cheered, her voice going deep in a 'threatening' manner.

"Wait, you and Pacifica are on the same teams? That is completely unfair, you two are mini golf champs." He complained. Losing wasn't actually something that bothered him. But he didn't want to be on a team with Bill. That would just mean more chances to embarrass himself.

"Don't worry short stuff, they're all talk. I bet you and me could take them on blindfolded." Bill said close to Dipper's ear. He barely held back a shiver at the proximity, and the blush that had disappeared since the café came back swiftly. 

"Oh, you haven't seen them play. I wouldn't bet any money on us." He was proud he managed the get through a sentence without panicking. He mentally congratulated himself on the achievement.

"That's right, fear the power of the undefeated victor!" Hands clenched into fists and raised in the air, Mabel's face screwed up into a look of determination and pride.

"Undefeated, please. Do you not remember our dramatic showdown like, four years ago?" 

The familiar voice of the rich barbie that they were friends with pulled everyone’s attention towards her. Pacifica's been close to Mabel and Dipper since middle school. They started out rocky, with Pacifica taking the role of a mean, popular tyrant of their peers. But Mabel had been committed to finding the good in her. And she did. They've been friends ever since then.

Dipper still held resentment towards her family for always wanting to buy his 'superhero brand' and never thanking him after he'd saved their family from every other new monster that wanted to attack the aristocrats. Pacifica doesn't want to follow in their footsteps, and that gained his approval more than anything else she's done.

"I was close to beating you, though." Mabel bounded over to Pacifica and jumped on her in a friendly hug that the taller one reciprocated with slightly less zest. Dipper just gave a small wave and tilted smile to her when they separated, never really wanting to take part in hugging. 

Pacifica noticed Bill rocking back and forth on his feet beside him and scrunched up her face, eyeing him. Bill was undeterred by her judgment, simply smiling politely and waiting for her approval.

"Hey, I haven't met you before. Did Mabel pick up another stray again?" Bill chuckled a little at Mabel's pout, ignoring the subtle insult of her tone.

"Now that I think about it, that is kind of what happened. Name's Bill, I'm here to win mini golf." He held out his hand to her and she took it, albeit hesitantly. He looked clean enough but you could never tell with strangers.

"Ha, I'd like to see you try." She flipped her hair, her and Mabel doing poses next to each other without even trying.

Bill crossed his arms and straightened up in retaliation, a grin on his face. He bumped his hip with Dippers to get his attention, eyes screaming at him to do a pose as well. This was embarrassing. This was useless to the plot. But he put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow at the girls anyway.

"Let the games begin!"

And thus, the mini golf duel began.

-

"You know generally, you're supposed to aim for the hole."

"Bill."

"I mean, I'm not judging. I just don't think your balls are supposed to be glowing."

"Bill, please."

"Although I guess if you hit it towards the luminescent sand instead of hole seventeen, then this is what you're gonna get, right?"

Dipper sighed deeply. Talent at this game did not, apparently, run in the family. They'd been playing for half an hour now and were losing by a significant amount. Bill clicked his tongue, becoming increasingly less encouraging as the tournament continued.

"You're dragging the team, Pines." He shook his head, hair fluttering across his eye briefly.

"He's trying his best." Mabel cooed, sliding up next to her hunched over brother. Her and Pacifica had apparently gotten bored of the challenge, and decided to see how many different ways they could hit the golf ball and still be winning. Mabel had even held Pacifica by her feet to do an upside down shot for one of their turns.

"It must be rigged. Maybe there are magnets in it or something. The little golf ball people are working against me." He winced. It wouldn't be the first time that's happened.

Bill smirked knowingly, and Dipper felt his eyes betray him as he glanced at those lips for a second. Damn him.

"Oh yes of course, my mistake. I should've known it was the little golf ball people all along."

"Hey, it's definitely a possibility. I-" A sudden rumbling like a stampede cut him off short. They stumbled in shock as the source of the shaking made itself -or themselves- known.

"You accuse our game of being unfair?" Yelled the leader of the... little golf ball people. Dipper cringed internally.

"Aw! Who are these cute little guys!" Mabel crouched down and poked one of them in the cheek? He needed to get out of here while she was being an unknowing distraction. 

"We are not cute! We will make you rue the day you insulted us!" 

While they were arguing and holding Pacifica and everyone else's attention, Dipper slipped away and ran behind the nearest mini windmill. 

Learning magic was the best decision he's ever made. Most costumes are worn under superheroes regular clothes, or in some kind of case they carry around all the time. That is completely unnecessary when you can transform into it using a mix of teleportation and conjuration.

He wished his sister knew that he was The Witch Boy, she could've made a much better outfit. But alas, that would require the courage to face his own family, and that was something that he did not have. 

A long, dark blue, hooded cape flapped around his shoulders, him quickly pulling the hood over his head. Along with that, a matching mask slowly came into existence around his eyes. The rest of his outfit snaked its way over his body in a flourish of blue light. He had the typical black body suit, but with what looked like blue lightening thinly cracking from his chest to along his sleeves. A belt roped loosely around his hips, fit with multiple pockets of powders and potions, as well as a rope hanging off to the side. Blue gloves wrapped around his hands and folded at the wrists, making it look like he wore big rectangular bangles. When creating the costume he had no idea what to do for shoes, so he just stuffed his feet into sneakers. As long as he could run freely, it didn't matter.

With that needlessly dramatic display done, the screams of harmless golfers brought him back into the fray. He jumped into the scene just in time to witness the destruction they caused. 

The Lilliputtians were a cryptid that Dipper was very familiar with. After having a sister and friend who are mini golf champions, he's faced these creatures an annoyingly large amount of times. They had never been particularly violent, but then again they did have immense pride that they would defend with their lives. Unfortunately that meant that they would also risk the lives of others. 

Dipper surveyed the scene with his eyebrows raised. The damage was minimal, but much more than what he thought the Lilliputtians were capable of. Some of the figures that themed each hole were crumbled and torn down, one was even on fire. The Lilliputtians were surrounding small groups of people at each course, backing them up with mini spears and swords. Didn't they used to use pencils? 

His eyes made their way through each group until he spotted a large crowd of the creatures attempting to attack Mabel and Pacifica. The girls were viciously swinging their clubs, knocking a dozen away each minute, but they were becoming more overwhelmed with each new wave of monsters. Bill was nowhere to be seen. Dipper desperately hoped that he didn't get traumatized from this and not want to hang out with them anymore. 

A sudden burst of fire circled the two, just before Dipper was about to cast a spell. He would have been horrified, if he didn't immediately know who those blue flames belonged to. 

"Wow, you little putters sure have perfected being annoying runts! I wonder, can Lilliputtians still get on people nerves when they're dead?" 

A blinding light burst in front of the fire, and as it went out, revealed a human figure with a coy grin smacked on his face. Devil Eye, The Demon of Gravity Falls, The Golden King, Vulture. Let's just say that this cheshire cat had much cooler names than Dipper did. 

"Oh yellow devil, you know how I feel about killing." The Witch Boy slid into view with an air of confidence he only had with a mask on. 

"My lovely assistant! It's about time you showed up, I would hate to take all the credit for saving everyone." The grin never left his face, in fact it only grew bigger as the two jested. 

"Now you know how much I enjoy our conversations pretty boy, but there seems to be a pest problem here. Shall we?" The Lilliputtians all turned to glare at the Demon as he gestured to the small army of golf balls. 

"I thought you'd never ask. Ventus!” At his shout, a handful of the creatures were blown away from their threatening positions and were stunned enough for him to run over to the girls as his partner went to attack the cryptids. 

“Okay I need you two to listen to me, and please do as I ask.” He waited until they nodded before continuing.

“Devil Eye is going to keep the Lilliputtians occupied for a while, but I need you two to help me get all the civilians out of harms way. Can you help us?” When everyone left, then he’d think of a plan to round all of them up. Safety was always the most important.

“Of course we can do that Witch Boy! You can count on us!” Mabel smiled ecstatically and grabbed Pacifica’s hand, riling a squeak from her. The blonde blushed and looked down at their entwined hands. 

As Mabel dragged her away to the closest group of civilians, Dipper turned and saw his partner gleefully knocking back multitudes of the persistent warriors. It looked like he was a kid flicking ants as they crawled closer to him. 

They threw spears and stabbed at him with their tiny swords but he was able to evade every slash. They even started stacking on top of each other to try and overpower him, but he just laughed and kicked the bottom one out, watching them fall. That's where Dipper decided to step in. 

"So," he clapped his hands together to get their attention, "Last time I defeated you little monsters, you seemed much less... hostile. Care to explain the change?" 

The Lilliputtians glared at him and readied their weapons at both him and the Demon. 

"You two have threatened our kind for the last time. We're sick and tired of being bossed around by you hugelings. Commanding us to stay hidden, to appease the golfers whims and follow only your orders. No more! It's about time you get what's coming to you." 

Dipper furrowed his brows as he processed their argument. He didn't get the chance to refute them however, as it was then that the golf ball people let out war crys and charged the two heroes.

The Demon ran around like a maniac, shooting fire offhandedly at any mini warrior he passed and kicking them out of the way, giggling joyously all the while. The Witch Boy used a more controlled approach, using practiced spells to stun and daze. The Lilliputtians have always been an elementary creature, Dipper had thought as he sent another set of them tumbling away. They've got this, easy. 

But then the spears were getting through the soft spots in his aura shield. And the Demon stopped smiling and instead looked incredibly irritated with the never ending stream of balls and pointy things. 

They met up in the middle of the course, the Demon putting up a fire wall around them.

"This isn't working, kid." the Demon said, his one red eye glowing with venom. "There's too many of them. We aren't putting a dent in their numbers."

"I know, I know..." He winced as he pulled a spear out of his arm examined it. It looked like it was made of steel, and made recently seeing as there was a lack of rust. His blood dripped off of the tip. He sucked in a breath and put the object in one of his belt pouches before looking back at the Demon. He could always research it later.

"They may be small but there are more of them than there are of us. And we both know the world doesn't want another me." Dipper put his partners comments on cloning themselves in the back of his mind, his mind already stuck thinking of a million different ways to go about this and looking around at their options.

Weaknesses. What are Lilliputtians weaknesses? He closed his eyes and thought back to some journals he'd read and written in about the creatures. They love awards. Dipper left all his stickers at home. They hate working together. Then why are they all banding together now? Just because they hate him? File questions away for later investigation. They are not against killing, but he is so that's out of the question. They can't move when they land in the sand...

"Of course!" The Witch Boy smacked himself in the face with his hand, the Demons ramblings on evil twins coming to a halt.

"You figured it out, brainiac?" He leaned closer to the Witch Boy.

"Yes, I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner. The Lilliputtians can't move if they get caught in the sand. If we could split them up and lure them all into the sand pits, then all we'd need to do is watch them until the collectors come by." It wasn't fool proof, but it was better than running around like madmen. Demon scowled and leaned away again, making a noise of disgust.

"I hate the collectors, they do nothing except lock up and experiment on these poor monsters and you know it."

"We don't have anywhere else that could lock them up, and they clearly didn't stick to the truce we made last time. Look we can argue about morality later, but right now I'd like to not be a sitting duck." He didn't like the collectors either. They were immeasurably sketchy and untrustworthy, but the jail cells wouldn't be able to hold the supernatural. The pretentious team of scientists were the only option other than an agreement on common ground. And the Lilliputtians blatantly disregarded that solution.

Demon glared at him for a few seconds longer before deflating, "Fine, but you owe me a soda after this."

"Deal."

The two shot up and darted in opposite directions as the fire vanished and they were once again enveloped in a sea of tiny jerks. Dipper screamed incantations and insults to every one he passed, drawing a significant crowd apart from the one that was following Demon. It was hard to run and not fall, seeing as a bunch of round things under your feet usually caused some slips. But growing up with Mabel's artful creativity gave him plenty years of experience in watching were he stepped. 

Although he didn't slide down, that didn't make this any easier. He felt every stab and slice to his legs and feet as he ran through the miniature beasts. Cleaning up and healing is gonna suck later. 

The sand pit was just a few feet in front of him now, and the Lilliputtians were right behind him. His pace sped up at the last second as he leaped across the pit, forcing the stampede to fall over themselves and get stuck in the grainy, glow in the dark sand. 

Dipper gave a relieved smile at the curses coming from the trapped beings, taking the time to fall back and sit on a bench next to the still screaming little guys. Demon plopped down next to him a second later, leaning his body on top of the Witch Boy's. He was too tired to protest.

"Well," the Demon exhaled deeply, "That was fun, I give it a ten out of ten. Probably wouldn't do it again, though."

Dipper nodded lazily in agreement. Being a magic user meant that he exercised his mind, not his body. He really should start working out if he ever wanted to get that buff superhero figure that's in all the comics.

"What do you think caused them to join forces like this? I thought that these guys all hated each other." He questioned, looking down at the tuckered out antihero resting his head on his shoulder.

"You heard them earlier, they're pissed off. Give people someone to hate and even arch enemies will work together." He started drawing triangles on the Witch Boys thigh, leaving a trail of glitter behind. Dipper smacked his hand away absentmindedly, humming in response as his brain got to work.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes before the collectors arrived and rounded up all of the monsters. 

"Thank you for your service." They'd always say, before getting in their ominous van and speeding away. Oh, how he hated the collectors. When they were long gone, the Demon turned to Witch Boy.

"I'm pretty sure you owe me a soda now."

"Yeah, yeah. What do you want, pepsi?"

"Coca Cola. I have some standards, magic mike."

"Hm, maybe you don't need that free drink after all."

"I'm kidding. Jeez, lighten up, kid."

"I'll try my best."

The Demon smiled genuinely, skipping along next to Witch Boy as they traveled to the nearest soda machine.

-

"Dipper! Where have you been? I was so worried when those things came out! I thought you were taken captive or something." He was attacked by Mabel's iron gripped hug when he, dressed normally, strolled into the lobby where the golfers had been squatting during the fight. He was glad to see everyone made it out safe, and that Mabel and Pacifica seemed unharmed. He'd been worried about Bill, but he also came in around the time Dipper did, saying that he'd gotten so scared he hid in the bathroom until the noises on the course stopped.

"I'm sorry Mabel. I thought they were after me because I insulted them, so I ran to try and get them away from all of you. But I ended up running too far and got lost on my way back, I'm just relieved you guys are safe." Not the best excuse he's ever come up with, but it'll do for now. She believed most of his stories anyway, regardless of how ridiculous they were. It caused a pang in his heart at how much she trusted him, and all he'd done is lie to her.

"I guess I forgive you... You better not pull anything like that again. You missed all the action!" And then she went on a rant about all that happened. 

How she and Pacifica basically saved the day, "Witch Boy personally asked us to take control of the situation. I of course reluctantly accepted the role thrust upon me, and became the hero that everyone needed. Right, Pacifica?" Dipper just smiled and nodded along, eyes occasionally drifting over to Bill who looked a bit out of place, eyes darting around and biting his lip. Dipper caught his eyes and gave him a friendly smile, gesturing for him to join in listening to Mabel's retelling of the tale. He relaxed and smiled gratefully, comfortably fitting into the empty space in their circle.

Dipper had a lot to think about, and he still had work and a test tomorrow. But right now, things were pretty good.


	2. NorthWest and Co.

The rope flew through the air and lassoed around a fleeing Unicorn. Cape billowing in the wind behind him, the Witchboy pulled back with all the small amount of strength he had, tightening the rope around the creature. He struggled to keep the Unicorn in place, even with its legs and head now tied.

"Is it just me, or are Unicorns a lot meaner than usual?" Dipper strained, breathing heavily as he tied the end of the rope to a bike rack and hurried back to help Devil Eye round up the rest of them.

"It's not just you." Demon was irritated as well, his face red in finding the will to not kill all of the sparkly beasts.

Unfortunately, this was not the only out of place attack by the monsters of Gravity Falls this week. Over the course of a few days, the attacks have almost doubled from what they used to be. Now instead of once every few days, easy to clean up and most people leaving happy, it was once every day, and the once harmless creatures turned into dangerously harmful ones.

Demon summoned his cane into existence with a twirl and blocked another thrust by the horned beasts. The Demon usually only brought out his cane to lean on or swing around in the air, adding to his need for theatrics. But at times like these it could be used as a convenient staff.

The Demon's growling turned into a shout when yet another Unicorn parried his hits.

"I hate this! You see this? This is me! Hating it!" He gave a dirty look to the few remaining Unicorns, snarling when they rushed at him again with their horns down.

Despite the heroes’ goals to capture the animals, they did not run in fear. In fact, it was them who went after Witchboy and Devil Eye as they were walking to a photo op at the cities only park. Instead of the white ponies they were last time Dipper faced them, these Unicorns were twice the size, and sharper the horn.

"Enough!" The Demon had finally gotten fed up, hands blazing with blue fire and eyes glowing. If Dipper trusted him less, he would have screamed, but Demon hadn't let him down yet.

Well maybe once or twice but forgive and forget, right?

His fire was a much better corral than rope had been, and soon the beasts were all running from it, moving in the same direction instead of prancing around wildly.

Devil Eye signaled to Witchboy, his eyes moving to stare intently at different items until Dipper realized his plan.

With that he conjured up more bike racks, setting them in front of the narrow entrance to a dead end alley. The fire pushed the few Unicorns that were left into the trap, leaping over the bike racks and into the makeshift cage.

Once they were all in, Dipper quickly brought up more racks on top of the hurdles, Demon instantly melding the iron together with his lit up hands. The Unicorns whinnied at them, stomping furiously but eyes filled with emptiness.

Witchboy and Devil Eye exhaled loudly at the same time, looking at each other and grinning for a second in a shared moment of accomplishment. Then Demon broke the eye contact with a cough and slightly rosier cheeks, looking back at the caged beasts.

"Take that you glorified horses! You can shove those rainbow horns right up yo-" Dipper hastily covered his mouth with a gloved hand before he could finish that statement. Not in front of the children.

Some time between the beginning and end of their heroic display, a crowd had formed just out of reach of the action. They rushed forward now, thanking the two and asking for pictures since their other shoot was canceled. Probably due to the supernatural interference that just occurred.

"Please back up from the-" A picture of himself was shoved in front of him to sign, "-Unicorns, they are still a-" Someone blinded him momentarily with a selfie, "threat and we should exercise caution when-" He deflated as he noticed the complete lack of concern and disregard to his words. "D, could you?"

The red-eyed man nodded once and stepped in between the crowd and Witchboy.

"Alright everybody back up, show's over. Go back to your sad human lives now. Buy our merchandise, or whatever." The Demon rolled his eye at the crowd, who looked at him with noses upturned. The city dwellers meant well, and many respected and knew the heroes enough to stay out of the way. They were pretty chill.

It was the tourists that made the experience tiresome.

There were cities around the world that had superheroes, villains, and monsters around all the time. But those crimes were kept secret to the city.

Witchboy and Devil Eye had become a brand. Gravity Falls was one of the only cities that advertised their special little spot on the map. They do whatever they can to bring in money. Well, the Northwests do, anyway.

As the crowd dispersed, albeit begrudgingly, the collectors' van pulled up in front of them and a scientist came out of it. Two guards hopped out of the back and fell into place on either side of her. The collectors didn't bear any insignia, so Dipper really had no idea who they worked for, only that they take the 'threats' into captivity instead of putting them down.

He didn't know which one was a worse fate. But then again, he didn't have a choice in the matter.

The scientist's face hadn't formed any expression since she left the vehicle. If she even made an expression ever. She just looked at the Unicorns once before nodding to the guards, who brought out phones and called in a transportation team. Although it would be hilarious to see seven giant Unicorns inside a small van, it just wasn't practical.

"Thank you for your service." Her monotonous voice was their cue to leave, as was the usual routine. She hadn't looked at either of them even once in the exchange.

The Demon scoffed at the team and turned on the heel of his knee high black boots, walking away at a brisk pace. Witchboy looked at his retreating form, glancing back at the indifferent scientist, then followed after his partner.

Demon floated up to the roof. A completely unfair power; it seems like he can do almost anything he imagines. Witchboy teleported up beside him and they ran together towards the opposite side of the city.

After a bad fight they liked to get pancakes at Greasy's Diner. The tradition started one day after Devil Eye got outsmarted by one of the stronger villains, Zanthar, and had to wait for Witchboy to save him. He would never admit it, but he was really embarrassed that night, which is not an emotion he usually feels.

So Dipper took him out for pancakes at a place his Grunkle Stan used to bring Mabel and him to, when they were still dealing with the aftermath of what happened with their parents.

They had a lot of good times at the diner, and even got a superhero discount. But the Demon gave a tip so big, it paid for all inhabitants of the diner at that time The city folk pretended not to eavesdrop on their conversations, but Dipper wouldn't blame them if they did.

Drama is so much more fun when you're not actually involved in it.

"I don't like them." His partner broke the silence. "They're dicks, and I want to banish them to the Mindscape." He spoke with conviction and looked a lot calmer now that they were free of the government workers. But his eyes were still narrowed as they ran across the tops of buildings.

The masquerade mask that the Demon wore was good, but his facial expressions were so exaggerated that you could tell exactly what he was feeling anyway. To many, it seems as if he wears his heart on his sleeve. However, Dipper knows this to be false.

He didn't know much about the Mindscape. It was a touchy subject for the yellow devil to talk about, so Dipper never brought it up. All he knows is that it's where his partner goes to when he needs a rest. It is not his home, he had been adamant about that. But it was where he resided outside of the "confines of human society."

Touchy subject, indeed.

"Nobody likes them." Dipper concurred. The Devil nodded his head in approval to the agreement.

"Right, we should just kill them."

"D, that can't be you're solution to everything."

"Why not? It's reasonable." He argued, voice ranging higher than usual.

"Reasonable for you. Us humans have different views on the matter." Very non-murdery views.

"Maybe I should take over the world. The humans would be so much better if I ruled them." His grin stretched wide as the light from the oncoming sunset colored him in fiery reds and golds.

"That wouldn't go over well." No, it certainly would not. He cringed at the thought of the devil in a crown, the guy's ego was big enough as it is.

"Slander! I'd be showered with love and affection, blood sacrifices all around. It would be beautiful." He smiled, looking up at the clouds as he spoke. "Not as beautiful as you, of course." He added to the end, winking at his witch.

Dipper gave him an unamused look, but broke it after a second of mocking to snicker at the remark. There was never any subtlety in his flirting.

"I'm flattered D, but I didn't think anything could top a blood sacrifice." He joked back, slowing down his pace at the sight of the Greasy's.

The old diner had always been a source of comfort for Dipper, and when he brought Demon here the first time, it became a comfort for him too. The patrons knew them well enough to get their usuals ready as soon as they walked through the door, in full costume and sweating from whatever task they'd been roped into.

If they were in a different city it would seem like there's some kind of convention nearby, but nobody here looked affronted by their appearances. Many people resented the heroes, but those people were all cowards. Nobody from their clubs and protest groups ever confronted them, though they still preached their hatred towards them publicly.

"Welcome back heroes, we'll have the usual at your table in a minute." One of the only waitresses in the diner winked, already setting down drinks at the table they've since claimed as their own. It was a booth farthest from the door, almost secluded from view of everyone else in the place.

"Thanks Lazy Susan." He gave her a wave, following after the Demon and sliding into the booth opposite him.

They waited in silence, making faces at each other as a form of communication until their food arrived.

Dipper stuck his tongue out and scrunched up his nose. In response, Demon shook his head, wiggling his eyebrows and winking. Dipper pouted, puffing out one cheek and letting out the air with a popping sound. At that, the Demon nodded and put a hand up to each of his cheeks, his different colored eyes rolling upwards.

He'd gotten used to his partners eyes by now, but sometimes he still found himself wondering what happened. The eye he was best known for was a deep red, the white that was supposed to surround the pupil replaced by a leathery black. His other eye looked normal enough, a light brown that could be perceived as gold in the right light.

It unnerved him at first, but he grew some sense after a few days and realized that looks don't mean anything as long as he can do his job correctly.

By the end of the nonverbal conversation, the meals had arrived. Water and buttermilk pancakes for Witchboy and hot chocolate with the current most expensive pancakes on the menu for Devil Eye.

He'd explained that the more taste buds he burned with hot drinks, the more immune to pain he will be. That theory has yet to be disproven.

Dipper traded his sausage to Demon for his cup of fruit, and they fell into a lazy discussion about their lives and whatnot.

"You were great today, by the way. Using the bike racks was genius. Much more effective than shooting fire at everything." The Demon gulped his drink, eyes never leaving his.

"I wouldn't have been able to do it without you." They spoke like this often, but he knew it was just joking. An all-powerful demon wouldn't care to do anything other than toy with puny mortals. Dipper accepted the fact a long time ago.

"Yeah you're right, I'm pretty much the best." With the lack of sarcasm in his tone, Dipper can't tell if he’s joking or not.

It's nice to just hang out with him. He doesn't know why, there's just some sort of energy that he expels. Dipper feels heated with him, like he's lying outside as the sun warms him to the core.

"So how's school going for you, kid?" As much as Dipper didn't want the Demon to know about his private life, he did let things slip sometimes. A lot of times.

"It's as good as it'll ever be. How about work, are you still in line for manager?" Not that he didn't figure some things out himself, too. After all, he solved mysteries before he fought crime.

"I practically already am, with the insane hours I'm working. But enough with this small talk," He waved his fork in the air, swallowing the syrup soaked pancaked before continuing, "Word on the street is that some humans are joining in with the radicals."

"No, really? They must be Strange's supporters." He wasn't shocked by the news. With how much Tad Strange has been talking about 'cryptids equality,' it was inevitable that the rest of his party would follow his words.

"No doubt about that, but isn't it strange -haha get it- that he's acting now? The amount of attacks on human's has gone up, the people should be furious."

"Not his people. They don't care if any of their own kind are hurt. Nothing can get in the way of their revolution." Equal rights for all the denizens of Gravity Falls is a nice concept, but it isn't possible with the prejudice both sides hold.

"If more people join his idiotic parade then pretty soon our float is gonna get sabotaged." Bill stabbed at his pancakes, playing with them rather than eating them.

A thought occurred to Dipper, making his speaking falter for a second.

Strange want's support to pressure Northwest into agreeing with some of his demands. They both have followers that despise each other with a passion, some more violent than others. The only thing they share is their hatred for the two heroes.

Northwest doesn't want competition. Strange doesn't want people oppressing his monsters. But Strange knows he's walking on a thin rope, with so little amount of people believing in his cause, so he'd want the monsters to look like upstanding citizens. He wouldn't want his devotees to side with the savage beasts, it would get him nothing but angry citizens.

But if Northwest were to send some men out, rallying with the rebellious creatures in the name of Tad Strange, things might go a different way. Even though that plan backfired seeing as more people are beginning to join in Strange's liberation.

"What if this is Northwest's doing?" Demon gave him an incredulous look, going back to his pancakes with a less enthusiastic vigor.

"Hold on, think about it. If Preston wants pro-monster supporters to look bad, this would be the perfect way to do it. The public would be disgusted with Strange's business." He urged his friend to understand. If they pinned this on either leader, the people would rally to whomever the heroes blamed it on.

Demon scrunched up his face and put down his fork. Steering his witch in a different direction was more important than food right now.

"The Northwests are a cold and elitist family. They wouldn't dare dirty themselves for backers when they could just bribe them. And besides, it doesn't matter how power-hungry they are, they detest the creatures." He assured, only putting a pinch of magic in his words to convince the witch.

Dipper felt the manipulation, but ignored it. Even without the push, he was right. The family would never stoop that low, would they?

"Not all the Northwests are cold." He felt the need to defend Pacifica, even if she wasn't there to hear it. She's a good person at heart.

Speaking of Pacifica, she invited Mabel, Bill, and Dipper over for monthly movie night, a tradition that was previously reserved for only the three of them before Bill came along. And it seems like he'd forgotten.

The Demon snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and falling back into the cushion of the booth seat, appearing troubled.

"Yeah, but they still exist. Having one or two good people doesn't negate the actions of the bad ones." He frowned, looking disconnected for a moment. "Good vs. Bad is not the problem right now though, we should talk about what to do next."

"Sorry, I know this is super important, but I really need to be somewhere right now. Prior engagements and all that. Sorry." Witchboy laughed at the end of the sentence, the hesitance of Dipper Pines slowly sinking into his composure..

Demon's eyes glanced to the clock on the wall, widening only slightly before looking back to Witchboy's fidgeting. Mabel is gonna kill him for being late.

"Yeah that's fine. I have to go out anyway." They stood up, Demon pulling a bar of gold out of his sleeve and dropping it on the table. Dipper filed the event away in his memory, to be processed later.

As soon as they exited the diner, the Demon flew off. Witchboy groaned and prepped for his own transport to his room. Hopefully, Mabel would be in a good mood tonight.

 

-

 

"I can't believe you almost forgot movie night!"

Mabel wasn't really that upset with him; he had opened the door just before she was about to open it herself. Technically, he was on time.

Except that he wasn't wearing his special movie night sweater. Mabel had made them all matching ones just for this night, as she tends to do. It was the only time they were allowed anywhere near the Northwest Manor, and even then they could only stay in the theatre, and must leave before midnight. A second over would mean certain death.

Okay, he was being a little overdramatic about the death thing, but if Preston knew whom exactly he was letting into his house every month, Dipper would be more than just dead. He'd be dissected and hung on the wall.

"I didn't forget! I just, uh, got um, distracted because uh... Studying." He shut his eyes and mentally slapped himself in the face. His excuses were usually better than this. Evidently, it had been a long day.

Mabel sighed, this night was important to her. It was one of the only nights that Dipper would be guaranteed to be there for. He often ran off to fight crime, saying that he'd been working on school stuff, which he was actually very behind on, or got so invested in a book that he didn't realize how much time had passed. He hadn't touched a book simply for leisure in almost a year.

The disappointed look on her face was replaced with one of enjoyment and Dipper felt some of the tension leave the atmosphere. She'd forgiven him for now. She may know that he's lying, but nothing would ruin her night. This was and always will be a perfect day.

"Whelp! Better not keep Pacifica waiting, you know how she gets without her daily dose of Mabel." She turned and skipped down to the street before he could reply. As her back was turned he quickly magicked up the sweater onto his body. It was a quality piece. Soft to the touch, warm. The only thing Dipper had a problem with was the outrageous graphic of a television. 

As he shut the door to their dorm, she spun back around and Dipper's smile widened at the delight on her face. He pledged to do everything in his power to make sure Mabel never loses that sparkle in her heart. It was the whole reason for his continuation of savinv the city, so Mabel is safe and as happy as she is now.

With that they raced each other to the esteemed, Northwest Manor.

 

-

 

Bill arrived last, walking into the home theater just in time to help Pacifica stop a popcorn war between the Pines twins.

"I leave for two seconds and you guys have already started World War III." He shook his head and chuckled, beaming at the roundabout squad. Dippers heart rate sped up at the sight.

"Two seconds? The last time we saw each other was, like, a day ago." Pacifica smirked in a way that only they would receive fondly. Most of the time that look held mirth, but not with them.

Mabel jumped up from her position behind a chair to pull the newcomer into a tight hug, abandoning her stance in the popcorn war.

"Much too long a time, in my opinion." It was odd how fast Bill was accepted into the group. Most people he'd met couldn't stand him for more than a few seconds, let alone days.

The movie was put in after they'd settled, thanks to Pacifica, and seating arrangements were decided by whoever laid down in a spot to be protected with their lives. Which meant that if someone threw their blanket in one place and plopped down onto it, it's there’s.

They mostly stayed together. All sitting side by side on the floor, leaning back on couch cushions and a mountain of blankets. Mabel and Dipper sat in the middle, with the blondes on opposite ends next to each. Someone made an offhanded comment about being sandwiched, “Seems like somebodies in a bit of a pickle,” before they were shushed as the opening scene rolled in.

Dipper felt his sister move a little closer to him, just enough to be almost unnoticeable. Movie nights weren’t just a time to hang out with each other. To his sister, this night is huge.

Back when they had just become friends with Pacifica, and Witchboy got more recognition in the city, Mabel had proposed a little get together.

Since Pacifica got the first real friends she’d ever had, she begged her father to let them have it over at the manor. Partly to make sure her Dipper and Mabel didn’t leave her if she didn’t prove her worth, and partly because it meant quality time with Mabel.

Also during that period, Dipper got less and less time to spend with the two, as he was always being called to duty. His grades fell, as well as his relationships with friends from school. Mabel was upset with him for always being in his room and alone all the time. For a while he thought that as long as the city was safe, his own life didn’t matter. But to Mabel, it did. So he put aside at least one day to focus on his sister and get a full nights rest.

That was before these strange happenings though. Dipper didn’t spend any of the day with her, still hung up on his appearances and the mystery of possibly steroid-induced monsters.

He’d have to make it up to her, big time.

A quiet chuckle came from the blonde beside him, causing Dipper to look over. The boy’s mouth was stretched wide, but he tried to cover his sniggering with a tan hand. Bill’s eyes met Dipper’s for a moment and he saw the glee in them for only a moment before Dipper turned his head back towards the screen, blush filling his face at having been caught looking.

The gory images on the screen only made his eyes shut tight and head snap back to the blonde again. He forgot that it was horror movie night. Bill was amused with a brutal torture scene, laughing instead of cringing with the rest of them. Lovely.

The distance between them closed discreetly at his flinch from the television, their shoulders touching. Dipper felt the shaking of poorly concealed cackling come from the other.

He opened his eyes to glare at him for being so at ease but as soon as he lifted his head a jump scare sent him right back to hiding his face in Bill's shoulder. The shaking coming from Bill only got worse and this time Dipper heard a puff of a giggle escape Bill’s lips.

Okay, that’s enough embarrassment for tonight. Time to go hide in the bathroom for a while.

He stood up and quietly tip-toed out of the room, heading for the bathroom. Many doors in the mansion were locked, not that Dipper thought it was a good idea to explore, but it was a direct sign that he was only permitted in the certain areas.

His hand was on the doorknob to enter the bathroom when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

He spun around and threw a punch because, hey, having at least more than a hundred people and supernatural beings that want you dead gives you a little bit of paranoia.

A tan hand caught his fist and as he came back to his senses he saw the amused gold eyes of his friend.

Blushing in embarrassment, he flustered and started opening and closing his mouth, trying to find the words to explain himself, but not finding anything.

“Hey its fine. Anxiety, I get it.” Bill gave a reassuring smile. He really was kind of the most perfect person Dipper has ever met.

“Thanks. Sorry about that.” Dipper chuckled nervously, dropping his hand when he realized they were still touching. That should be a new way of holding hands, covering a fist with your fingers. “It was a reflex. Did you want something?”

Bill nodded, remembering why he followed Dipper to the bathroom like a creepy stalker in the first place.

“Yeah, um, do you know where the kitchen is? Mabel kinda shoveled the rest of the popcorn into her mouth and sent me on a mission to get more. And this place is really big and confusing.” Bashful was a weird look on him, as Dipper thought that he always held the confidence he had on the first day they met.

It’s interesting. Outsiders weren’t actually supposed to leave the room without a member of the house, if it could be considered a house with it being so large. Unless it was a bathroom break. He wouldn’t have thought that Pacifica didn’t intervene on Mabel’s assignment, more in fear of her father finding out than of them actually snooping around.

“Sure I can show you.” Even with the skeptical intentions, he was not about to miss out on an opportunity be around Bill more. “We’re not necessarily allowed to be there but… What Preston doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He shrugged, smirking at the blonde’s replicated expression.

“Well then.” Dipper clapped his hands together, albeit as softly as possible so he didn’t make too much noise. “Are you ready for the tour of a lifetime?” He put on his best whispering announcer voice.

“Lead the way.” Bill moved back and motioned to the foreboding hallway.

While Dipper tried to step as softly as humanly possible, eyes darting to every door they passed, and every painting, in case they had those eye things that the people in the movies crept through. Bill had no such qualms, prancing around behind him and stopping in front of every other painting to point out unnoticeable mistakes in the brush stroke and color scheme.

Prayers were sent that they wouldn’t get caught, seeing as Dipper would like to avoid having a chat with his enemy in his own territory.

He let out a breath when they finally reached the kitchen, heading for the cabinet that contained popcorn packets as swiftly as he could. Bill opened the fridge, the oven, and what Dipper thought to be every single cabinet the Northwests owned.

“What’s the rush Pinetree? Worried old Presty is gonna interrupt our precious alone time?” Dipper’s face reddened again, looking back at the chipper blonde to see if he was joking or not. Dipper honestly couldn’t tell.

“I’m not a big fan of having a run-in with him. He’s not the most understandable guy.” He pulled a few packets out and placed them in the microwave carefully. Every action must be subtle. Stealth mode activated.

“Never met him myself.” A look came across his face as if he had just said an inside joke that Dipper didn’t get. “Heard he’s a tool.”

“Bill!” He whisper yelled, darting his eyes around fervently. “You can’t just say stuff like that. Knowing him, he’s probably got cameras or something hidden around here.”

“Relax, you’re beginning to sound delusional. I’m sure we’re fine. We’ll hear him coming, this mansion echoes, and there are plenty places to hide.” Dipper took the popcorn out one second before the microwave beeped, and ushered the buttery goodness into a big bowl.

“Let’s just go back. I’m sure Mabel and Pacifica are waiting for us anyway.” Not trusting himself to hold the bowl -he was too jittery at the moment- he handed the bowl to Bill and together they crept back to the home theater room.

Dipper didn’t know what to feel. At first his attraction to Bill was one of those things he thought about all hours of the day, an obsession like something he’d had with a redhead back in junior high. Yet this didn’t feel like that at all. It felt like falling in love with your best friend in reverse. In the beginning, he had admiration and well, come on, Bill’s hot as hell. He wanted to do a little more than just shake hands with the guy. But he didn’t really feel that way now. It’s only been a few days but Dipper feels like they’ve been friends for years. It left him in a perplexed state of mind that was equally frustrating and simple to comprehend.

Similar to the feeling Dipper had, Bill felt the pull between them as well. Since entering the human plane of existence, Bill hadn’t really grown close to anyone. Sure he and Witchboy hung out and he’d like to believe they’re friends, but Bill couldn’t be sure. Witchboy had never really outright said it so he never brought it up, not wanting to make it awkward if he didn’t consider them to be that close. To be quite honest, it scared him. Friends weren’t really something you had in the Mindscape. Sure, allies were a necessity if you wanted to survive but mostly, you are alone.

Bill didn’t want that. Bill _doesn’t_ want that.

They’d almost reached the room, both too lost in their own thoughts to converse with the other. Really, it should be obvious where their inattentiveness got them next.

“Boys. Is there a reason you’re sneaking around my corridors and not sitting quietly with Pacifica.” 

They jumped in unison and spun around to face the voice of their nightmares.

Preston. Fucking. Northwest.

The wealthy nobleman sneered at them as a few pieces of popcorn fell onto the rug that probably cost more than his Grunkle’s shop. The biggest enemy of the secret superheroes was standing right in front of them, towering over with a face that only a super villain could attain.

“Mr. Northwest! Sir! Uh, your majesty?” Dipper rambled, blubbering like some common plebeian. Bill was completely still, eyeing the lord of the manor with a calculating gaze.

Presto- sorry - _Mr. Northwest_ raised a surprisingly bushy eyebrow, the utter look of disgust never leaving his features.

“Answer the question boy.” Northwest spat out the last word, getting a little spittle on Dipper’s face. He whimpered, too intimidated to wipe it off. His magical energy was still regenerating from the incident earlier that day. If he got even a small suspicion that Dipper was Witchboy, he’d be doomed. This is why he never wanted to be in the man’s presence. Ever.

“We were getting more popcorn. Pacifica requested it.” Bill said evenly, not looking at all worried about their current predicament. That being said, he’d never met the man in person. Dipper knew this for a fact, if all Bill did was work at his puny café. The heir to Northwests fortune wouldn't go to some oeasant coffee shop.

“The child should have rung for the servants. There are rules you must obey whence one enters Northwest Manor.” He said it like an asshole would, but that was a given. Dipper still couldn’t speak, or even move. He held onto the back of Bill’s shirt and tried to stop shaking. It’s been said before; Dipper is not even a sliver ad confident as he could be without his mask.

“She didn’t want to bother them with such a simple task. You really have a sweet daughter Preston.” Flattery was not something a peasant could use against the rich and powerful. Their egos were so big that the words of poorer people meant less than nothing.

“Do not presume you may speak to me so familiar.” He brought a hand forward from its position behind his back, and Dipper flinched. All he did however, was straighten his hundred dollar tie. “My daughter is not and will never be ‘sweet’ if she is to be my predecessor. I will make sure of it. Now enough wasting my precious time. Take your whore sister and leave, you are not wanted here.

Rage hit Dipper like a train at the insult to his sister. Nobody, _nobody_ gets away with calling her something like that. Secrecy be damned, he’s going to tear that scum’s face apart, just like he did back then. Blood would look wonderful splattering the hideous painting on the wall.

Just as he was about to blow his cover and melt the skin off the hideous bastard, Bill draped an arm over Dipper’s shoulders, keeping him in place with a much stronger grip than Dipper thought he had.

“Sorry for the disturbance, we’ll be gone before you know it.” Bill hurriedly dragged him away, arm still holding Dipper. He thinks Bill deposited the popcorn bowl on some random side table, Dipper really didn’t know. He only saw red and it was taking everything he had to not break from the grip and break something, probably Preston.

“Simmer down, Forest Fire. You can punch a wall when we get out of here.” Bill rubbed his shoulder, still so calm even after the short mishap. His steadiness grounded Dipped for a bit.

“That nickname doesn’t even make any sense.” He gritted his teeth, trying to breathe normally as much as he could. Dipper appreciated the diversion; it helped just a little bit.

“You're not giving me a lot to work with, Pinecone.” Bill smiled down at him, looking relieved that Dipper was able to respond without growling out curses or other abusive remarks.

They made it to the theater within a couple minutes; Thankfully Dipper was mostly sedated by then. The girls looked up when they came in, frowning in confusion at the lack of popcorn.

“You had one job Bill. One job.” Mabel shook her head, trying to look upset but not so subtly winking at the two. If Dipper was in a better mood he would have shushed her and mumbled excuses to the blonde next to him. But he didn’t trust himself not to sound bitter.

“I deeply apologize. Truly, from the bottom of my heart.” Bill’s one arm was more loosely hanging around Dipper now. With his other hand he clutched his heart. “We got sidetracked. Ran into a moldy cheese stick with eyebrows.”

“Preston caught you?” Pacifica paled, gripping the blankets she sat on. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have sent you out there.”

“Relax Llama, it’s not like you sent us into war. Everything turned out fine.” He was flourishing his hands around a little too much, knocking Dipper in the face at least twice. Dipper made sure to glare at him. He may have cooled down but all he wanted to do right then was go home and sleep for a few years.

“Well, almost fine. We got kicked out of the club. We should probably leave before the bouncer personally throws us out.” Bill picked up a single leftover gummy worm from their snack pile and stuffed it in his pocket? Dipper didn’t like to judge others but that doesn’t make sense. The gummy will melt and get all sticky, or it’ll freeze and just be hard and gross. Why not just eat it now? What’s he gonna do, put it in a scrap book? Whatever, now isn’t the time to explain his mundane inner monologue.

“Aw, we’re leaving already? But we haven’t even gotten to the second movie.” Mabel whined, hugging onto Pacifica and refusing to get up. Dipper was proud of Pacifica for not immediately blushing.

“Sorry Shooting Star, sequels are almost always disappointing anyway. Plus, isn’t it past your bed time?” He put one hand on his hip, moving his other finger back and forth like a mother would a child.

Mabel groaned for at least a minute more before she begrudgingly stood up and brushed the crumbs off herself. Pacifica sealed her mouth shut so as not to scream from the mess. A small noise could be heard but the friends were kind enough to ignore it.

“I guess we have no choice. Bye Pacifica, it’s been fun.” Mabel pulled Pacifica into another hug, this time the blonde reciprocated. At least they were happy and at the end of the day, that’s all that really mattered.

When they separated, Pacifica just gave out high fives to him and Bill, which he didn’t mind at all. Nothing wrong with a good old high five every now and then.

“Goodbye I guess. Same time next month? Bill you’re invited to the next one as well, I guess you’re part of the group now right?” The genuine smile she gave was breathtaking. She may act fake, but she really was beautiful when that mask was taken off. Then again, everyone fakes it at some point.

“As long as you guys don’t mind. I’d be honored to come again.” Although Pacifica was stunning, to Dipper, Bill’s beaming smile was a thousand times more jaw dropping.

“Why would we mind? We’re inviting you to come again. Besides, you’re our friend now.” Bill’s heart slowed to a stop for a moment. His breath caught in his throat as he looked at each of the group’s faces.

Friends. That is a word he hadn’t heard in a long time. Especially directed towards him. The moment his heart sped up again, warmness flooded through his veins, clinging onto his chest. It was painful. It felt good. He might become addicted to the feeling.

“Yeah. Yes, I’d love to. Thank you.” The thank you was for more than the invitation, but by his new friend’s heartfelt smiles, he knew they understood the message.

“Alright!” Mabel clapped her hands together, ending the moment they were having. “I think we should exit the building now, before Mr. Northwest throws a fit.”

They agreed, and each went their separate ways after another round of ‘goodbye’s and ‘see ya next time’s.

Despite the sour mood Dipper had been in since having a run in with Preston, he fell asleep peacefully.

Mabel cuddled her stuffed animal’s, thankful that she got to spend time with the people she loved most.

Living with her parents was torture, but that night Pacifica dreamed for the first time in a long time. She dreamed of laughter and smiles and hours of pure enjoyment.

But it was Bill who had the best night of all. Instead of traveling back into the Mindscape, he found a hotel and rented a room for the night. Sleeping like a real person, having friends, saving a gummy bear and preserving it in a coat of air-tight glass to keep forever. For the first time in a long time, living didn’t seem so hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh thank you everyone who commented at gave kudos!!! you guys made my day, i hope i can provide good content for you guys :D sorry i wanted to upload this thursday but it was kind of a rough day, next chapter is already written though so i'll have that edited within a few days probably. sorry about all the cursing in this chapter idk how to convey my feelings


	3. Intro to Business

“Dipper, go help your sister in the shop.”

“Yes Grunkle Stan.”

As the heavy footsteps of his grumpy great uncle and boss fade away to the back rooms of their store, Dipper made his way slowly to the front of the Mystery Emporium. Stan said that he named it after a shack he used to own somewhere out in the woods of Oregon. The wares haven't changed; it was all still very obscure, which drew in a lot of costumers who had lived their whole lives in the secluded city.

When Stan brought Mabel and him here after that whole fiasco with their parents, nobody complained or excluded them. The community was very welcoming, always making sure to treat them normally and not ask any stress inducing questions.

Except for the Northwests of course.

The family that ruled the town despised new people, for a reason that was above Dipper’s understanding.

He assumed they just didn’t trust newcomers, or wanted no competition against their tyrannical company. Whatever the rich owners of the town had against them, he would still resent them either way. They were rude. He hates them. Except Pacifica of course.

"Morning Mabes." He yawned, receiving a lazy wave from Mabel in return.

He started restocking the empty shelves half asleep, Mabel equally as warn down as him at the cash register, ringing up customers with a half-hearted smile.

It’s been three weeks since meeting Bill. Three weeks since the incident with Lilliputians, the first but not the last of the over powered creature attacks. And Dipper still hasn’t figured anything out. His great uncle’s monster logs have given him no useful information at all.

Ford had been a recluse for most of his life, and only really came out of his lab in the basement for family dinners or to look for the creatures he studies and updates his findings to create new methods of dealing with them.

Dipper looked up to him as soon as they met.

Everyone knew about the unnatural things that haunt the streets, but nobody had done anything about it for a long time. They used to live in peace, each minding their own business. Humans didn’t mess with them, and they didn’t mess with humans. It was how life worked in Gravity Falls, and they were all comfortable with that.

Dipper didn’t know the whole story, but he’s heard bits and pieces from gossip and whispered conversation around the city. Very few things Grunkle Stan or Ford said was reliable, if they said anything at all.

Apparently, when his great uncle Ford traveled to Gravity Falls to investigate the strange happenings here, he’d gotten more than he bargained for. Things he’d never seen or heard of lived all around, and he was thrilled to be welcomed in the wacky community.

As he began taking notes and looking into all the mysteries of the town, he uncovered things, which he wrote down in journals that he later shared with the family. Only the harmless things. His research eventually led him to experimentations, magic, and many days without seeing the sun.

Then one day his brother Stan showed up with two kids and a pig, and the hermit Ford was forced out of hiding. It turned out to be exactly what he needed in the end, seeing as Grunkle Stan's pawn shop brought in enough money to keep them happy and healthy.

He knew a lot more about magic than Dipper did, having spent about thirty years of his life exploring it thoroughly. From what Dippers read in his not really permitted explorations of Fords lab, he found out that only humans put through specific coincidental experiences could use magic successfully and efficiently. Therefore, Ford could not master the art he knew so much about. Dipper had been a product of these coincidental circumstances, that gave him abilities he never thought were possible.

He'd never asked Ford the specifics that led him to be gifted in the art of wizardry, too scared to admit it even to himself, but going from what he had skimmed over in the logs, Ford didn't appear to have much knowledge on the subject anyway.

Dipper reminded himself to ask his great uncle later about the sudden aggression in supernatural beings in Gravity Falls. This could be a seasonal thing, maybe it's similar to mating season for some animals.

Although they did say it was a kind of revenge on Witch Boy. Did they feel threatened? But they didn't act like cornered animals would, they were much more offensive than defensive. Don’t cross that off the list just yet. They may have acted one way, but they said something that made it seem like what they felt was imprisonment.

Was this all just simply against him as a human? Even if it was, they had said he'd 'finally get what's coming to him.' so are they actually forming a personal vendetta against him?

Mostly, all the monsters in Gravity Falls stayed away from each other, and didn't have any system of leadership. He found it hard to believe that they would change their ways and go against their nature just to protest his authority.

But what worried him more than their motive was their sudden new strength.

If Dipper was remembering correctly, then these guys were one of the weaker species that resided within the city.

So where did they get freshly cut steel? They lived on the golf course, that's not exactly a booming business for fine metals. But if someone was providing them with weapons, how could it possibly benefit them? Dipper couldn't picture any other monsters that would care if the Lilliputtians became stronger or not.

Not only that, but the power that seemed to have appeared overnight made no sense. They could work out in an attempt to get buff, but in the end they're still only golf balls. Steroids maybe? Could golf balls even get injections? And if they felt so passionately then why did the Unicorns they’d faced have such empty eyes? Its like they didn’t care about what they were doing, but then why did they fight so hard to destroy Dipper and Devil Eye? How did they get so big? Why would they dirty themselves at the risk of getting caught by the collectors if every monster since the first attack had been caught?

Dipper groaned and rubbed his fingers to his temples. All this uncertainty was hurting his poor sleep deprived brain.

"Hey Mabel, do you want to go get some coffee?" She gave him a knowing grin and wiggled her eyebrows.

"Do you really want coffee or do you just want to see Bill?" She teased. Dipper's cheeks grew hot with blush and he quickly turned his back to her laughter.

Over the past few weeks they had seen Bill practically every day for hours at a time. Sometimes while Dipper was too oblivious to see where he was until a high-pitched "Hiya Pinetree!" caused him to choke on his coffee, Bill laughing his ass off every time. The origin of these nicknames was still out of reach to Dipper. Oh, how it frustrated him so.

And then other times when Bill wanders into the Mystery Emporium in search of "something that has a high possibility of being cursed."

Both of those had resulted in some hours of conversation that Dipper stressed over. His brain was so busy thinking about what to say that he forgot about the monster situation that he was currently entangled in. Eventually somebody in the group would mention some thing that started a debate or series of conspiracies. Many of these were about mysteries that Mabel rolled her eyes at, leaving them alone to do their “nerd stuff.”

"I guess visiting Bill at work could be a bonus to buying coffee. It’s been a while; I know how much you enjoy his company. We can stop by if you really want to that bad." He turned his back to her after he'd finished putting away merchandise as slowly as he could.

Mabel's face was unamused to Dipper's twist of words. He smiled innocently until she relented with a drawn out sigh, still smiling.

"Yeah sure, it was definitely me who begged to skip work to flirt with him again." The eye roll, Dipper thought, was a little over the top. The sarcasm in the statement made itself clear enough.

"It's not flirting! It's just, you know, a friendly discussion." He shrugged with nonchalance, trying to appear indifferent to her insinuations.

Laughing out of place while someone else says anything that comes to mind isn't considered flirting by many people.

"Whatever you say bro-bro." Dipper let out an unobtrusive chirp at her confirmation to their escapade. "We can probably convince Stan to let us off for a while, if you're absolutely dying to go. I’ll use my cuteness of steel to weaken his defenses" At his eager nodding, she chuckled and slid out back to ask their Grunkle.

He was gonna see Bill again! Despite how little Dipper added to their talks, he still very much enjoyed being around him. The exhilarated way he talked, like he'd just won a marathon he'd been training years for, was addicting. His general passion for the world around him made Dipper feel like he could do anything he desired.

He didn't feel any pressure to state his opinions and it was incredibly relaxing, even though he was dying to get the guts to speak back and contribute with equal elation. They did occasionally get on a topic that Dipper couldn’t possibly resist ranting about. Bill was everything Dipper ever believed to be perfection, and it killed him.

"Dip you gotta stop spacing out, people are gonna think you're high all the time."

His thoughts disseminated and his vision cleared from the mist that had blurred it at the sound of his sister’s voice.

"Mabel?"

"Yes o' brother of mine?"

"Shut up."

 

-

 

"And that's when I said 'officer, you've obviously never been to a Columbian strip club.’ Needless to say, it wasn't the first time I ended up behind bars. Some people don’t know how to take a joke."

Dipper snickered as Bill finished his story.

They'd been chatting for the past hour and a half over a meal of pastries and lemonade as the blonde retold the many adventures he had in his youth. He was still young but he acted as if he’d lived through every war in history. It really was quite interesting. And entertaining.

"Anyway, how's work been? Still having trouble with spacing out every five minutes?" Dipper groaned fondly, still grinning stupidly wide at the comfortable smile on his friends face.

He considered them to be best friends ever since Bill gave him his number during one of their conversations, and the movie night thing. Dipper had a lot of fun that night. Mostly.

"As good as it will ever be. I live a very exciting life doing homework and scamming every costumer for more money."

It couldn't be further from the truth. Every second he wasn't focusing on his job or school, he was calling the collectors to pick up another unusually powerful beast.

“That’s rough buddy.” Bill filled his face with mock sympathy. “What you need is some more action. Ever seen the dynamic duo in a fight? It’s incredible.” He sighed happily, a dreamy look on his face.

Oh Dipper knew all about the dynamic duo’s fights. He had front row seats to every brawl they had.

“And you know that guy some call Devil Eye? He’s pretty hot, wouldn’t you say? He’s really great in a battle, right?” Bill continued, eagerly searching Dipper’s face for his agreement. Dipper scoffed, insulted and personally offended at the statement.

“Oh please, the Demon of Gravity Falls? He seems like an asshole to me. Now Witchboy, he seems much cooler. Very manly and attractive.” Bill’s face dropped before forming a scowl.

“What? Witchboy is a pretentious kid! That stupid hero and his stupid perfect face. It’s ridiculous how beautiful and smart and how amazing at everything he is and…” He cut himself off, face turning red when he realized what he said. “I mean… Never mind. I didn’t say that. It was that damn autocorrect, I swear.”

Dipper chuckled and held back from screeching at the praise. If only he knew.

“I could be wrong but I’m pretty sure autocorrect doesn’t work outside phones.”

“Hey you never know, we could all be robots.” Bill let out a sigh of relief when Dipper ignored his little blunder. It wouldn’t do for his teeny tiny crush to be out in the open.

“If we’re all robots than how can you explain-“ Dipper was cut off by the static of a radio. Why’s he always getting cut off? He suspected some type of magic out to get him.

Oh wait. That is exactly what’s happening.

That dusty old thing resided on the counter next to the tip jar. The only reason the store had it was because Bill liked to listen to the police reports and news coverage. Dipper didn’t know why he’d be interested in those boring stations, but he guessed it was more entertaining than sitting around all day in silence.

“ _Breaking News! City benefactor Preston Northwest announced today that he would be hiring more of his personal police forces to guard the city. His decision has brought up tension with fellow leader and civil rights activist Tad Strange. Northwest has not yet given a reason for this new order. More news at eleven_ _.”_

Dipper bit his lip, concerned. The rivalry between Tad Strange and the Northwests has been going on since the two first shared ownership of the city. In order to not monopolize power in their businesses, the two got in a shaky agreement to share leadership of Gravity Falls. But they had very different opinions on what to prioritize.

While Tad wants to introduce monsters into society and allow the people to have a bigger role in the government, Preston wants nothing more than to isolate the town and have total control of all decisions. He really puts the ‘dick’ in dictator.

The dispute concerned many of the citizens in Gravity Falls, and their bickering often caused Witchboy to get regrettably involved. He was used to dealing with mysteries, not politics.

“Jeez, those two never know when stop.” Bill murmured, staring at the radio with a suspiciously blank expression..

“I hope they don’t turn this into a big thing. If they keep this up they’ll surely run this city into the ground.” Dipper also left his face intentionally blank, but he couldn’t stop himself from chewing on his lip. This constant battle will eventually tear the whole city apart. That’s going to be annoying to clean up.

“Hmm…” Bill said, his tone uncharacteristically distracted. He returned his attention to Bill at the blonde’s hum. “Sorry to do this to you but I just remembered I have to go meet up with an old friend from high school. You know how it is.”

“Yeah I should probably head home anyway. Mabel must be annoyed with me for staying away so long instead of going back to work.” He has to talk with and old friend too.

“It was nice talking to you though, we should hang out more! Outside of work next time.” Bill gave him a beaming grin. One day Dipper’s will die from the cuteness he shows.

“Definitely.”

Dipper returned the grin and left the little café, still smiling disgustingly chipper.

 

-

 

“D, thank god you came. Did you hear the news? You had to have learned the news.” Witchboy spoke urgently.

“Of course, how could I not? How do you think Strange is gonna react to this?” Devil Eye worriedly replied from his crouched position on the ledge. He was twirling his hair around a finger, twitchier than normal.

The two heroes were atop one of the taller buildings in Gravity Falls, discussing the cities current grim situation. Bill was sitting cross-legged closer to the edge of the structure, while Dipper paced back and forth on the walkway.

“Well he’s gonna retaliate of course. How? What can he do other than put more of his people on the streets as well? I suppose he could march right up to the Northwest mansion but that wouldn’t look good in the papers.”

The stress of holding back creatures from the little rebellion they’re having was bad enough, but if those two snobs got into a feud then Dipper didn’t know if he could handle both simultaneously.

They had gotten in arguments before but the timing of this and the monster attacks was too weird to be a coincidence. Usually their fights played themselves out, with only a small amount of help from Witchboy. Northwest never wanted his interference but Strange always insisted in him being the neutral party. If more Northwest officers started patrolling, there was more a chance of him being caught. Dipper didn’t want to hide and sneak in order to save people.

It was no secret that Northwest didn’t approve of the Witchboy and Devil Eye’s presence. He’s recited speeches, ordered an arrest, interrupted fights in an attempt to capture and identify him. It became so much of a problem that Dipper grew extremely paranoid at even the sight of Northwest’s officers. Paranoid of _everything_.

If his family ever found out… If he was ever taken by the collectors… He shivered at the possibilities.

“I think a better question is what are we gonna do? You know they’ll rope us into their problems. They always do.” Demon spat out bitterly. Dipper’s increasing panic was quelled momentarily by the distraction.

“I don’t know… _Ugh_!” Dipper through his hands up into the air and let out a frustrated growl. Now was not the time to explode but Dipper never handled his emotions well. “This is so stupid! Why does Preston _insist_ on pissing off Tad?”

“Hey, come on now.” Bill hopped down onto the walkway and held Dipper still by his shoulders, keeping a respectable distance of which Dipper was extremely thankful for. “Everything will be fine. Deep breathes. Whatever happens will happen. None of this is on you.”

After being partners for years, the Demon has learned how to deal with his tiny freak-outs. Dipper is eternally grateful to have him as his comrade.

They’ve worked together since Dipper was still in high school. He hadn’t known what he could do with magic until he snuck down to Ford’s lab and found one of his journals. The possibilities that opened up for him after reading that book were endless. It was only a few days after looking in it that he attempted a spell.

His first try was a disaster. He had to think up a really good excuse for the burn marks on his arm, but it was worth it in the end.

He kept practicing, and kept perfecting the spells he’d found. Eventually the journal ran out and he bought more books. His Internet search history was filled with things that would horrify a devout Christian. Devil worship and cults and stuff, that is. Not… other guy things.

As he grew more and more in tune with his gift, he started using it outside of the secrecy of his bedroom. That replaced his contained wonder with an addicting thrill of public secrecy.

It was during one of these escapades that he encountered his first monster attack.

The child must’ve been no older than four years old, and was cornered in an alley by an adult Arachnimorph. She screamed. She was helpless. She was crying for her mother. What else could Dipper do than help her?

That first fight had left him panting and weak, but the mental agony hurt more than anything. He had no mental energy, or any experience in that sort of thing. His injuries stung and the corpse of a monster lay dead at his feet. He feels like a monster. The little girl stared him in the face and saw the horrified look in Dipper’s eyes, he couldn’t make any other face to hide it. She took his bloodied hand in her tiny one, said a quiet “Thank you,” and walked away.

That’s when Dipper vowed to never kill a living thing ever again.

He saw how frightened that child had been. She felt just as much fear as Dipper did. Scarier than the beast was the power that he possessed, his lack of control despite a year of practice.

He wonders where that little girl is now. She’d seen his face before he’d learned to wear a mask. She was the only one that knew he was just as much of a monster as everything he’s faced. But his identity was still a secret to everyone. She didn’t tell anyone. He hopes that little girl is happy, wherever she is.

It was months before he used his powers again.

He created a costume that channeled his energy to a controlled point. He stopped learning destruction magic, focusing on things like conjuration, restoration, and teleportation instead. He hid his face and his head, hoping that no one else would have to see him for the monster he truly was.

Everything he did was for the good of the people. He did his best to keep everyone safe. And to this day, no monster or human has died under his watch. Yet.

The Demon of Gravity Falls arrived about half a year after he became a superhero. At first Dipper was wary. His grunkles have always told him to trust no one. But when a powerful human dressed fancier than he ever was showed up knowing more about these creatures than even Ford did, he welcomed the red and yellow eyed demon with hesitantly open arms.

He was apparently gifted with different powers than Dipper was. He called himself a dream demon, and his wide range of abilities made Dipper believe him. While Dipper had to use incantations and his own intuition, Devil Eye just had to look at something to set it on fire. Dipper didn’t know the extent of Demon’s powers, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Realistically, if Witchboy ever fell asleep in his presence the Demon could find out every single thing about him. He could enter his mind as easy as walking through a door.

It was a scary thought, but with how badly Demon had wanted to partner with Witchboy, the ground rules they set at the beginning of their partnership would be followed. Even by a trickster like him.

“I’m good now, thanks.” Dipper took a breath and brought his hands up to hold his demon’s wrists. If he hadn’t been wearing a mask, if it was a bit lighter out, the light blush on the Demon’s face would have been clearly visible. Dipper barely noticed, and didn’t care to mention it.

“You’re welcome.” Devil Eye replied curtly, stepping back from the Witch’s hold on his arms. “Now have you thought of anything concerning our current predicament? I’d hate to have to kill them both and save us the trouble.”

Dipper gave him a devious grin, and the Demon swore his heart stopped for a second.

“I have a plan.”

 

-

 

“When you said you had a plan, I thought that meant it’d be a good one.” The Demon complained.

“Hey! This is a good plan! It’s just a little bit last minute… and not necessarily well thought out… but I’m sure it’s fine.”

The two were currently bickering over the colossally stupid idea that Dipper came up with. He desperately wishes he could just go home and sleep right now.

In the cool air of an autumn night, wind swirling around the dark figures illuminated only by the pale gold of streetlights and the glow of the moon shining down from above, they rushed, like two panthers running as one with a dream of freedom, and of purpose.

It is supposed to go like this; they burst through the doors of Strange’s business, demanding to speak to the man in charge. They go to him because he’s the less likely of the two leaders to try and dissect them.

Once they gain audience with him, they will make him promise not to do anything rash. If he refuses, they will politely threaten him.

Then, when the threat of war is diminished, they will suggest a compromise between rival companies.

Dipper doesn’t have all the details of the ceasefire yet, but he can just wing it. Everything will okay, maybe they’ll all hold hands and take a picture to commemorate the new friendship. They can all frolic in a field of daisies and sing songs.

This is going to go horribly wrong.

They arrived at the steps to Strange’s company complex just in time to see Mr. Strange himself walk out and lock the doors behind him.

“So much for the first step of your genius plan.” Demon muttered to him.

“Not helping, spawn of Satan.” He saw the Demon glare at him from the corner of his eye.

“If you like having your eyes attached to your body, I suggest shutting up dear.”

Dipper gulped and glanced nervously at his partner. Devil Eye’s eye appeared brighter in the dim lighting given by the streetlights, and his evil smirk was dripping with amusement. Dipper knew that if he did one day do something stupid that upsets the Demon to the point of anger; he could very well lose his eyes or worse.

Tad turned around just as the heroes came to a stop in front of him. The businessman smiled pleasantly at them.

“Witchboy, Devil Eye, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Sorry to stop you on your way home Mr. Strange. We were hoping to organize a meeting with you. As soon as possible.” Tad waved them off.

“It’s no problem at all. Would you like into come into my office now to chat?” He gestured to the building, already unlocking the door before they could reply.

“That would be nice, thank you.” Witchboy responded meekly. Beside him, the Demon snorted at his reserved acting. If it was northwest he would’ve been ruder, but Strange was a reasonable man most of the time. Dipper still didn’t want to get on his bad side.

As they sat down in front of Tad’s desk, Dipper realized too late that he had no idea what he was doing.

“So,” Tad clapped his hands together and looked between them expectantly, “What is it you wanted to discuss?”

Witchboy wrung his hands together nervously under the desk. Warmer hands than his grabbed them and squeezed in reassurance. If he didn’t have Demon here he probably would’ve chickened out by now.

“How has your company been lately? With all these beast attacks, I worry for your safety. There is a high possibility of you being a target.” That’s right start out easy. Stay casual, breathe, and don’t think about any stressful things like the inevitability of death.

Oh no.

“We’re fine here.” Strange narrowed his eyes. “I’m not worried about them. After all, I’m an advocate for their kind. It would be counterproductive to attack me.”

“So do you think they’d go after Preston Northwest instead?”

“I think they hold resentment towards the man, if that’s what you’re asking. But as a main target, I doubt it. Not yet anyway.” He leaned on the table, a thoughtful look on his face. “If they had a target at all, I would think it to be the smaller powers underneath the Northwests. The managers of his establishments, his family, his new guards,” He looked Witchboy in the eyes, “You.”

Dipper shivered and held Demon’s hand tighter. Strange broke eye contact and sat back in his chair. A mute sigh slipped from Dipper’s mouth at the break of tension.

“Of course this is all just speculation, I’m no psychic. It’s what I would do if I wanted his reign to fall.”

“What _are_ you going to do? Now that he has more patrols out, are you gonna play the ‘whos more powerful’ game?” He managed to speak evenly, although he was still shaken by the cold look in the man’s eyes. Tad is a nice guy, but to be a businessman is to be strong, in charge, and intimidating as can be.

“This isn’t a game, this is business. To you it may seem that we’re bickering like toddlers but its simply politics. As for what I plan to do next… I am not sure. Preston wants me to retaliate in this way so he can pretend that he’s the better man, and I’m the jealous rival. I’d hate to buy into his plans but if I do nothing it may lead to his monopolization of the industry. It is a difficult position he’s put me in. I almost admire his boldness.”

“Why don’t you come to a compromise? You could each loosely control the governing of the city and actually talk to each other instead of passive-aggressively measuring dicks.” It seems Dipper’s gotten a wee bit frustrated. Devil Eye’s hand and his were held together impossibly tight. He’s surprised no magic has sparked to his friends hand.

Thankfully, Tad chuckled, and Dipper felt his grip relax slightly.

“If only if it were that easy. It’s not that we _don’t_ try to compromise, it’s that we _can’t_.” He looked so tired. Dipper almost felt bad fro the guy. “Our views are so completely opposite that if we were to put them together, it could worse than before. I wish it was different, but this is just what life is here.”

“It doesn’t have to be like this. You can change the way things work. You can make life better for everyone in Gravity Falls if you just work together! It’s unfair-“

“Life’s unfair.” Tad interrupted, something Dipper couldn’t identify reflecting on his face. “The sooner you realize that not everyone can be happy, the more mature you’ll become.”

“Are you saying I’m not mature?” This was not how he wanted the meeting to go.

“I’m saying that you are young. You deal in sorcery and heroism, but you have no place in government. Your naivety will only hurt you and everyone around you in the future.”

Witchboy fell silent and looked down at the hands that had somehow intertwined during the conversation. He knew he was young. His wish for peace was unrealistic, and it would be better for him to accept that fact now. He knows that.

But he couldn’t do it. Not when the promise he made to never cause another death weighed heavy on his weak shoulders. He couldn’t shrug it off if he tried, and if he did eventually do it, he would just be left unprotected and vulnerable to the truth he didn’t want to face.

That truth is that this world is cruel. And it takes no prisoners.

“Tad Strange I think we’re done for today.” The Demon’s clipped tone and void face made even Dipper feel uneasy. “Whatever you do now, we will see. We’re inexperienced, but you’ve gotten us involved in your petty rivalry. Expect to see us when you make a decision, we will judge it. Think about that when you make a decision.”

“I will. I hope you got what you wanted from this, I should be going home now, a lot of paperwork needs to be filled out. It was good seeing you, Witchboy.” He glanced at the Demon but didn’t say anything else.

They silently walked outside, locking up the place before Tad separated from them and got in his car. They didn’t let go of each other’s hands until his car was out of their sight.

Dipper moved away from the Demon and wrapped his arms around himself. Oh how his insecurities are going eat away at him tonight. He can practically taste the self-doubt.

“Don’t listen to anything that asshat says. He’s a politician, they practically live to lie.” Dipper nodded absentmindedly at the words, causing the other’s shoulders to droop and let out a resigned sigh.

“Don’t think too much tonight, okay? Take a day off, you need to have less action in your life.” Bill thought about the words he’d said to his other friend earlier in the day. It’s funny how he’d given his two closest friends completely opposite advice.

“Yeah, sure. I-“ Dipper turned away before he said anything stupid. “I’m gonna go home now. _Relinquo_.”

With that he teleported away, leaving only a mist of purple and blue stars in his wake.

The Demon looked at the place he’d been a moment before, eyes blurring as his sight gave way to thought. As he slipped away from reality and into the dream realm, he wondered what was considered home to the Witchboy, and if his dreams would be peaceful.

 

-

 

Sneaking into the house at midnight never ended well for him. He knew Mabel would be waiting up until he got home, so he could only hold his breath as he quietly entered their shared dorm.

“Where have you been.” She didn’t pose it as a question. It was thrown at him in a much more demanding tone.

“I was with Bill, remember?” His nervousness was clear, the guilt, obvious.

“Until 12 AM?” She raised her voice, standing up from her seat on a beanbag chair.

“It just went on for a little longer than I thought it would! I’m sorry, I should’ve texted you but I got distracted.” She stomped up to him and dragged him by the ear into his room.

“Normally, I would be okay with you socializing more, but you should have told me! I worry about you Dipper. After what happened with mom and dad…” She looked away, hugging herself like he himself had done just minutes before. Guilt soaked through his insides like a heavy rain.

“I’m sorry. I’ll let you know next time, okay? That won’t happen to us again.” His insecurity would have to share with his guilt when they both eat away at his mind tonight. It’s practically a feast of negativity.

“You better buy me a cake tomorrow as an apology.”

“Anything for you sis.”

As Dipper buried himself in blankets, listening to the sweet sounds of cars zooming by outside, he replayed the events of the past week in his head.

These things have to all be connected. How? What’s the end game? He could just let this play itself out, but after the talk with Strange, he want’s to get even more involved and prove himself to the man.

This is too much for Dipper to deal with right now. He falls into a troubled sleep, thinking about what home used to be. When everything was easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is angsty sorry. i cant write happy stuff i guess? idk, next chapter might not come out for a while, some stuffs happening rn. please comment if you like it and what i should improve on thanks!!


	4. Strange Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains body horror, graphic depictions of violence, mild language, blood, and gore. Read at your own discretion.

The doors to Building A burst open, and barreling through them was none other than the incredibly average college student, Dipper Pines. Late again for a very important class. 

In his defense, he couldn't possibly wake up in time for the lecture due to out of his control complications. Mabel took his phone, and the seven alarms he had set on it, as a "you're grounded young man, no electronics for a week!" kind of deal. He couldn't exactly refuse, not after what he's been putting her through.

He thought life was hard before, now he doesn't even get a break in between his daily activities. He's had to leave work early, unexcused. That did not win him any brownie points with his grunkle, of whom was already crabby about his last few temporary leaves. Spent hanging out with Bill.

Okay, that seems to have become a reoccurring thing. It's not a good enough excuse and he should be focusing on the important things, like family and studies. Also the whole saving the city from the forces of not always good things thing. He didn't really want to say evil just yet. That's a strong word. And we all know that Dipper isn't that strong.

 Not strong enough to enter the lecture that he's late for with conviction. Dipper stands in front of the door to hell for a moment, and then breathes in deep. _It's only an hour, I can do this_. He pushes open the door.

 This isn't like high school, so the professor doesn't stop to point him out to shame him. That doesn't stop multiple people from turning their heads to him. His hair dropped in front of his eyes as he hid his face, looking down and make his way to a seat in the back, trying to make himself as small as he could in hopes of just disappearing altogether from the mortification. This was the worst feeling in high school, and it looks like it's carried here.

Dipper was able to breathe a little better when he sat down and was tuned out by everyone else. He took out his notes and tried to pay attention. Tried being the emphasis of that statement. His mind kept wandering. 

"... And so despite the lack of support for research from the National Institutes of Health, scientists continue to experiment with human-animal hybrids. The amount of human being bred into these animals is at a low percentage right now but they are coming up with hypotheses of if scientists contribute 100% of the human brain than they will be more human than animal. This brings up the argument on human ethics versus biomedical advances that could save lives..."

Dipper only got snippets of the lecture, as it was difficult for him to concentrate. He'd slept for the first time in two nights last night, and it was only about three hours of sleep. This morning he was in such a rush that he didn't get the chance to pick up a coffee to wake him up, so he was pretty much The Walking Dipper right now, minus the whole brain eating bit. He could only hope that they wouldn't have to right an essay or anything on this.

Just as he was nodding off to the droll speech from the professor, slowly sinking his head onto the desk and eyes drifting closed; a thunderous crash snapped him to attention, along with the rest of the class that had jumped from the noise.

Uh-oh. Dipper recognizes the sound of something big and destructive, he is very familiar with such sounds. He sat up a little straighter, subtly sliding his things back into his bag and dropping it under the desk. It wouldn't do for him to lose his work at this time. 

Some of the students had gotten up to look out into the hall outside the door, most likely to get a clear view of the probable fight that is about to go down. Even the professor had stopped talking and was now ushering the students to the wall farthest from the door. 

Although everyone in the room minus the teacher is at a generally 'adult' age, they're all still a bunch of kids. So the students at the door didn't move, in fact they opened the door to get a better look at the monster. Bad news for them, perfect escape for Dipper

"I'm gonna go call for help!" Dipper averred, sprinting out the door and leaving shouts of alarm behind him. Help was coming, sure. But he isn't gonna need to call for it. 

Dipper ran for a janitors closet across the hall and closed the door to transform into Witchboy in about three seconds. New record! He checked to make sure his mask was secure, you can never be too careful, and crept back into the hallway. His eyes swiveled back and forth to each end of the hallway, not seeing anything, but a distinct clicking echoed around him. Hopefully school will be canceled for a few days after this. He could use a break.

Dippers legs bent as he hardened his stance, all his senses alert. He mentally flipped through the list of creatures this could be. Clicking sounds. That could be loads of different things. Arachnimorphs; he desperately hopes it isn't that. Dipper felt a shiver pass through him just at the thought. The Hide-Behind; definitely possible, seeing as he cant see anything. Not it's natural habitat though, there aren't enough hiding places. Other than those two, there aren't any obvious ones. Nothing that could cause the crash that sounded just a moment before.

Another crash and loud click came from Dipper's right. He doesn't have super speed, but he wishes he did. So when he turned to see whatever it is, he wasn't fast enough.

Something hard slammed into his side, throwing his body down the hallway to crash into a wall. He grit his teeth at the bruises and cuts he could feel forming on his body, a particularly nasty gash had ripped through his costume and caused the fabric around it to droop with blood. Dust from the crumbling brick wall flooded Dipper's view. He felt disgustingly cold sweat drip down the back of his neck.

Oh. So it's gonna be one of those days.

" _Patet_." Dipper choked out subconsciously, sliding into a standing position as his spell cleared the dust from the impact. _Wow_ that hurt. His hand fell to the gash on his stomach and he murmured a quiet " _Concrescat,_ " stopping the blood flow if only to not pass out in the middle of the fight. Putting any more energy into a healing spell wouldn't be in his best interests right now.

He didn't get a chance to prepare himself for anything else, as when he tried to move forward, a dark red tentacle shot out of nowhere and latched onto his ankle, pulling him with a surprising amount of strength and causing him to fall back down onto his butt. The tentacle dragged him, squirming, towards a dark mass that emanated from the spot Dipper had stood before he was slammed into the wall. As he was rapidly heaved towards it, the strange being came into focus. 

_That is not in the journals._

What Dipper had thought was a tentacle was actually more closely related to a giant centipede, the little legs looking like spikes coming out from its sides. The limb was connected to an inhuman shape, taking the place of what could have been an arm. Bones stuck out from the creatures grey skin, tearing through the flesh on it's shoulders because of how sharply they pushed against the body. It's face was almost human, except the white eyes were dead and what should have been a mouth had was covered by the monsters flesh.

The creature's jaw dropped as it let out a grating screech, the skin over where the mouth should have been stretching wide. Dipper felt another tug at his ankle, the only warning he got as he was thrown up into the air and slammed down to the floor, hard.

Dipper felt a bone crack and let out a bark of pain, some internal panic taking over some of his thoughts. 

_Fuck, this is bad. What is this thing? I've never seen anything even close to this monstrosity before. What the hell?_

" _Separabunt_." Was all he could gasp out as he was jerked around like a rag doll. The creature hissed as the part of it wrapped around Dipper was torn away by the spell. Dipper took the chance to leap a good distance away from the creature, hunching over and clutching his stomach to try and hold in the blood that was now spilling over his fingers. Guess that weak healing spell didn't work. Just great.

"You know, you're really starting to bug me." Dipper gestured to the centipede arm with his free hand. "Get it? Because you're part-bug?" The creature let out another predatory screech and raised it's arms. Or at least what he thought were arms. "Sheesh can't take a joke. How about you take this instead?"

He summoned a metal weight and flung it at the creatures face before it had the chance to react. The creature, which he had dubbed 'Centy,' let out a high pitched grunt as the blunt object dented it's head, a black goo dribbling down from the wound.

Centy didn't pass out like Dipper had hoped it would. Things were never that easy. Dipper crossed 'knock it out' off his list of ways to take down the creature.

Dipper was about to summon up bug repellent when a wonderfully familiar staff was javelined at Centy, piercing through the creature's centipede arm as it was about to dart towards Dipper, holding the arm in place against the wall it shot through.

"I don't blame our angry friend for taking offense to that joke, Witchboy. Let's leave the sarcastic quips to me." Dipper grinned, sagging slightly with relief despite the current situation as Devil Eye stepped out of the shadows. The Demon returned the grin, his canine's glinting through the dust.

"Sorry D, someone had to take your job while you were absent." Witchboy shrugged his shoulders, his grin turning into a wince at how the act pulled on his wound. "But -ah- how about we save the humor until after this is all over?"

"As you wish witch." Demon bowed low to him then faced Centy again, his face shifting from calm to borderline murderous. "Alright tall, dark, and ugly. I think it's time you got a date with a real man."

Dipper huffed out an indignant "Hey!" but made no move to join in the fight. In his state, he would be more of a liability than an ally. The thought stung his pride, Dipper hated being this useless. All it took was a few hits from the beast and he was incapacitated. 

In his defense, he'd never seen or heard of this creature ever in his life. It wasn't in any of the journals; he knew that for a fact. However, that wouldn't stop him from going through them a few more times.

Centy had to be at least a level eight on the monster scale. Still, he had fought level nines before and had been able to hold his own. Maybe the stress and sleepless nights finally caught up to him. He had to admit that with all the crap that's happened recently, and still with no results, his practices had been all but forgotten.

He supposed that he didn't really need it at this point. Fighting monsters every day now, he got in plenty of unwanted training. School was getting easier to deal with, as winter break was coming up, his professors were getting lazier. The two politicians that were butting heads hadn't been _too much_ trouble, just the occasional assholish tendencies. Dipper was actually studying politics now to ready himself for the inevitable choice of taking sides. That'll show Strange! Witchboy is no child!

"Would you like some fries with that?" The Demon's cackling brought him out of his reprieve. He really must be losing a lot of blood if he'd forgotten that he was _in the middle of a fucking fight_. 

The Demon was shoving a multitude of different foods at Centy. Ranging from sticking hotdogs in it's eyes, to slathering the centipede arm with ranch dressing. He'd even tried sticking pretzels into the flesh that covered it's mouth, but quit after it became obvious his efforts to access the throat were fruitless. Devil Eyes methods were... unconventional. But Dipper had faith that this was all part of some elaborate plan.

"Boy toy, are you still conscious? I could really use an actual plan right about now." Oh. So maybe it wasn't an elaborate plan. Apparently it wasn't even a plan at all. 

Dipper ran through options in his mind as Demon continued terrorizing the creature with hearty meals. He scrunched up his face when he came up with nothing. It was as if his mind went blank. He mechanically pulled things out of his utility belt, seeing the labels but none of the words registering. 

A wave of dizziness fell over him for a second before he shook his head. Admittedly, this did not help his headache, but it did bring him back to earth for a few seconds. Enough time to find his knockout powder and call out to his red-eyed partner.

"Duck!" The Demon thankfully did not question it, dropping down with no hesitance, only offering up a "Goose!"

Witchoy threw the ball of packed exploding powder at Centy's head with all the strength he could muster, letting out a grunt as his body strained at the movement. He could only hope for the best as it hit the creature, impacting on it's left knee. It didn't really matter where it hit though, as long as it landed on the beast. Thankfully, because Dipper couldn't aim to save his life. Which hopefully, he would not have to put at risk any more during this fight.

A pink dust burst from the ball, clouding Centy's senses and almost catching Demon too, if he hadn't somersaulted back to Witchboy's side when it impacted with the creature.

A horrible retching came from the creature and he heard a thud before the dust slowly began to clear. Centy was slumped on the floor, it's body looking like a crumpled heap due to it's bones sticking out a little more than they were previously. 

They stood in silence for a moment, waiting for any sign of the creature waking up. When no such sign came after a minute, the Demon led out a large breath.

"Hoof! Glad that's over. Making all that food really worked up an appeti-" 

A sudden, loud hissing cut off Devil Eye. They both tensed and hardened their stances towards the creature, but it didn't get up. No, it did something worse.

The grey skin on Centy's back started bubbling and sizzling, large boils forming and popping along the body. More black goo like the stuff from the head wound started flowing from it's dead eyes, covering the face with the tar-like substance. It's bones started caving in on it, crumbling the body into a bubbling and gooey mass of dark matter. The only thing undisturbed was the centipede arm, which had fallen off Centy as the body fizzled out. 

Dipper could only stand and watch in horror as it happened, frozen where he was with his eyes widened. 

When it was finally over, where Centy had been there was now a puddle of black tar and bones, Dipper found himself choking on air, backing away from the mess and tripping over his own feet as he attempted to scramble away from it.

"Wh-at" Dipper gulped, eyes glued to the scene, "What was _that_?"

"Uh... A bad burrito?" Demon shrugged his shoulders, sending a calming look to Witchboy. How he managed to be so indifferent to this, Dipper will never know. Although being a demon, this probably isn't the worst thing he's seen.

"Now is not the time D." While Dipper appreciated the poor attempt to alleviate tension, but his insides still felt like they were gonna spill out of his throat at any second. 

Oh, right. He's bleeding profusely from a flesh wound. Watching a monster melt into a pile of goo can be really distracting.

His grip on his side subconsciously tightened, which was a bad idea, seeing as he's now bleeding more. A whimper escaped his lips as the throbbing pain finally caught up with him, adrenalin no longer sedating it. 

"Whoa hey, witchy are you feeling okay? Were you badly hit-ooooh that's a lot of blood." Demon kneeled down in front of him, lifting Dipper's hand off of the pulsing cut. The sting from that elicited a choked yelp from the back of Dipper's throat."Okay yeah that does not look good. Not at all."

"Thanks, that's really helpful. I'm practically healed already." Dipper ground out through his clenched jaw.

"Oh good, you're still a little shit. You can't be too injured then." Had he more energy, Dipper would've punched him. He settled for a glare. "Nothing a little magic can't fix."

The demon laid Dipper down flat so that he could hover over the wound. Fabric was ripped away from the bloody gash, much to Dipper's discomfort, and warm hands placed gently over the laceration. 

"This is probably gonna hurt like heck so feel free to _grab_ and _squeeze_ me if it's too much for you." With such an exaggerated wink, Dipper couldn't miss the innuendo even if he wanted to. 

He rolled his eyes at his partner, but placed a hand on Demon's leg anyway. In his experience, pain sucks. Having something to grip that isn't around the inflicted area is somewhat of a relief.

"Just get on with it please. And if I cry out and hold onto you while you're hands are all up on me, don't get the wrong idea." He joked back, smirking up at the blonde. Two could play at this game... If this is a game at all and not just their usual flirting banter.

Gold and red eyes widened and snapped away from Dipper's face to fixate on his hands over the bloody injury, his face steadily turning pink. Dipper thought nothing of it; the Demon probably just couldn't believe what a great comeback that was. He mentally high-fived himself for leaving Demon speechless.

Without another word, the hands over his stomach produced a soft yellow light that began slowly sewing together the gaping wound. Dipper's hand squeezed down on the Demon's thigh, holding back a strangled whine of pain as the magic poked and prodded his skin to painstakingly pull it back together. 

This wasn't the first time he's gotten healed by the other. They'd tended to each other many times over the years, each time getting slightly less awkward for the two. Dipper knew less about healing than the Demon, his great uncle's books mostly held destruction and summoning spells. Through the true magic of google, he'd learned the basics, nowhere near the advancement level of his partner.

After an excruciating seventy-two seconds, the Demon finally removed his hands and patted Dipper on the head lovingly.

"There we go, all better." The Demon chirped, hopping up with some newfound energy, before carefully helping Dipper up standing as well.

Dipper poked at the closed wound, finding it sore, but thankfully not gushing blood anymore. _That's still going to leave quite a nasty scar._

"Hey do you think this scar is gonna make me look tough?"

Demon looked at him incredulously, crossing his arms at the smaller boy.

"Really?"

Dipper shrugged at poked it again, noting that the pain felt worse in some areas more than others. This information was unnecessary and completely useless but his impulses kept him poking at the new pink scar on his skin. It was the Demon that slapped his hand away.

"Stop that! I _just_ fixed it for you." 

"I know." Dipper replied hotly. "I was just checking to make sure you did it right." 

Demon rolled his eyes at him. As long as the scar didn't open up again, Dipper could play with it all he wanted. The Demon's face scrunched up as his stomach made a gurgling noise, reminding them both that he actually is hungry. Dipper was about to voice his concerns for his friends eating habits but a woman in white appeared in between them, startling them both back with synchronized screams of confusion.

"Thank you for your service." 

He heard Demon's drawn out groan once the shock of her sudden appearance worn off. The collectors jogged past the two heroes and took out advanced and scary looking tools to scrape the remains of Centy off the floor. Dipper quickly turned away, grabbing for Demon's hand before remembering the woman that stood between them. She gave him a sideways glance that made his hairs stand on end. With one look at Demon, who was scowling at her, Dipper decided to hatch another of his famous great plans.

"We should go!" He shouted, breaking the tense silence that had befallen the group. Demon was the only one that reacted to him, the rest of the scientists ignored him and kept doing what they were doing.

"Come along Devil Eye! Off we go to protect the city some more! A completely normal thing that we do every other day!" Dipper spoke loudly again, winking wildly at Demon from behind the woman's shoulder. His all powerful friend looked back at him in utter confusion.

"O...kay?" Dipper grabbed his hand when he got close enough, and sprinted down the hallway and out of the building, dragging a perplexed demon after him.

With the healing magic still lingering on him, energy surged through his body. From past experiences, he knows that the vigor he feels now will be gone in less than an hour, so he wanted to make this quick. A white van showed up in his peripheral vision, parked close, a few feet to his right. He squeaked and hurried towards it, still pulling his demon behind him.

"So uh... You okay there Witchy? Did I accidentally give you too much magic again?" Demon made himself sound fake concerned, causing Dipper to scowl at him when they reached the van.

" _No_ , I'm  _fine_. I just thought that maybe, after a very traumatic battle that we will never talk about again, you would find some joy in snooping around the collectors van." The door to the van was popped open with one quick pull. You'd think that someone of their importance would lock their car doors, but it opened with ease. 

Demon opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, shook his head, and then closed his mouth again. What a fine showing of his level of intelligence. 

"I'm sorry, did you just say you want to _break_ into _the collectors_ van?" Demon looked at Dipper incredulously after he finally got words to come out of his dumb mouth. He crossed his arms and leaned on one heeled shoe. "Ok now I'm sure, I definitely gave you too much magic."

"Here me out-"

"I hate when you say that." The Demon mumbled. Dipper frowned at him, looking not quite like a kicked puppy, but very close to what one would look like. Demon did not look impressed in the slightest.

"I thought you'd be happy! Don't you hate the collectors? We could find some juicy secrets in here to compromise them with!" Smiling enthusiastically did not work as well as he would have liked, as the Demon just took Dipper's hand again and walked him away from the van, shutting the door with a disappointed shake of his head.

"Yes, I hate the collectors and yes I would love nothing more than to shut them down but not right now." Dipper was swung in front of the Demon, the blonde putting his hands on either of his shoulder's to hold him in place. He does that a lot. "Don't we have enough problems? I feel like this would add unnecessary conflict to our growing list of issues. "

Well, when he put's it like that... 

He sighed, giving up and letting Demon put an arm around him. There are a lot of things Dipper has to think about, and a lot of responsibility that he needs to accept. Demon's right, shockingly. They should focus on one thing at a time.

Dipper scrunched his face up as he thought about it. With all the stress he's been feeling, one would think that he wouldn't want any more things to deal with. But it doesn't feel like he's doing enough. No matter how much is on his plate, he's not getting anything done. Nothing's changed while he's been laying around and waiting for someone else to make a move. It's about time that Dipper actually get's down to working through this.

A faint feeling suddenly overcame Dipper and in an instant he fell onto Demon, weakness seeping into his bones as he slouched into his startled partner's arms. A gurgling noise came from his throat, all the previous energy he had leaving him with a dissatisfying lethargy. 

"Aaaand there goes the energy. Alright, do you need me to carry you home? Ya' big baby." Demon cooed snuggling a limp Dipper close to his chest. 

"No. You can't know where I live buddy." Dipper slurred, pushing himself off Demon, who kept his arms out in case he fell again. Dipper stumbled, but straightened himself up enough to stay standing.

"Did you just call me 'buddy'? Okay, you should really let me take you home." The poor guy looked genuinely concerned, which made Dipper angry for some reason. He can take care of himself.

"Buddy, I'm good. Just need maybe a spritz more of that magic stuff you got and I'll teleport out of here like the wicked magician I am." Okay, now Demon _really_ looked concerned.

Dipper couldn't see any problems. There's nothing wrong with some artificial magic. Okay well maybe there is, don't try this at home kids, but Dipper's an adult and he can misuse magic any way he wants.

"Witchy you just called me 'buddy' twice now. I'm all for pet names but this one seems more like an actual pet's name, which I'm also cool with, if you're into it. I'm just saying, there are much sexier ones we could be using." The Demon tried for a smirk but ended up with a grimace as Dipper snorted out laughter.

"Silly demon," He patted the Demon's cheeks, "there's nothing sexier than good old 'buddy's and 'pal's. Now lend me some of that magic please."

The Demon sighed into his hands, mumbling something along the lines of 'this is the stuff I have to put up with,' and begrudgingly touched Dipper's arm, sending a surge of energy into him. Dipper breathed in deeply, feeling the addicting rush that came with it. 

"Thanks! I'll see you in our usual spot on Friday, if we don't see each other before then." He waved, smiling at the tired looking demon and then teleported back into his room leaving the exhausted superhero behind.

All the energy he had was used for that last bit, so as soon as he got to his destination at home, he gracefully collapsed onto his floor.

This is fine. Sleeping on the floor is okay, it's just as comfortable as a bed. Sure, Dipper's still in costume, but nowadays who _isn't_ still dressed in costume? 

Dipper groaned into the floor. Even his thoughts were starting to jumble. Like it's been said before, don't misuse magic kids.

Forcing himself to change into sweatpants and whatever shirt he could find on his floor, Dipper dragged himself into a cocoon of blankets on his bed, content to sleep the rest of the day away, maybe taking a week off for once. 

The thought got him to chuckle at himself, snuggling into the blankets more as he began to drift off. As if he could ever get a week off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is super (pun-intended) late, and short, my life is kinda a mess rn and i have no excuses im willing to give. but thank you so much for the comments and kudos and such!!! i am overjoyed and i dont know how to express how much i appreciate it and love you guys. im gonna try to update more but as i said, lifes a bit of a mess right now. my updates are gonna be a little sporadic. I wrote a one-shot as an apology though, it's not related to this but it's there if you want to read it i guess. http://archiveofourown.org/works/6453823


	5. Intervention

Dipper didn't mean to sleep for two days straight.

After the whole 'Centy' incident, he wasn't feeling all that great. The newly healed injury on his stomach kept him in a constant state of throbbing pain and sharp stings. Somehow, Dipper managed to not leave his bed for days.

Mabel was concerned, to say the least. When she first walked into his room and saw Dipper hibernating in a cave of pillows and blankets, she did what any sister would do, and jumped on top of him. However, when he let out a very unmanly squeak of pain, she immediately got off and ripped the blankets away from his aching body to assess the damage. 

It wasn't incredibly uncommon for Dipper to come home with scratches and bruises, especially nowadays, but when he's injured to this extent he's usually better at keeping it from Mabel. Kinda hard to do that when he can't move to hide himself from her. She was none too pleased.

Mabel tried to drag him out of bed to at least get something to eat, but every single movement pulled at his cut and it hurt enough for him to wince and curl in on himself. His sister took pity, thankfully, and brought him breakfast in bed. And lunch. And dinner. 

Dipper mostly spent the days miserably trying to find the least painful position to lay down in, stressing over all the things he needed to be doing, and drifting in and out of a troubled sleep. It was on the third day of this cycle that Mabel called in for help. 

There wasn't a problem, in Dipper's mind. In a few days, he'll be fine and able to catch up on everything he missed, maybe even get the chance to look into this monster and politics business. But he had a hard time convincing Mabel of this. The dark bags under his eyes, stressful rambling, and beaten body were not helping his argument. Dipper counts himself lucky she didn't ask where he got them. She has this concerned light in her eyes every time he catches her looking at him, and she seems strangely disappointed that he wasn't telling her anything, but she hasn't asked the big question yet.

He'd thought he'd get out of this scott-free, but then Mabel brought in the cavalry. Grunkle Stan, Pacifica, and Bill. All of the people he actually talks to regularly, minus Ford, Mabel had called in to do something about Dipper. He was very vocal about how ridiculous and unnecessary this was, but she was having none of it.

"Mabel, I'm fine. You really don't need to bring everyone over." Dipper says from his position laying down, seeing as he's unable to sit up. 

She looked at him incredulously. He's been saying things like this for the past hour as they waited for the others arrival. It just seemed like too much just for Dipper. Having so many people care for you when you're just a little beaten up isn't something that a lot of people do, right?

Not only that but... It's embarrassing. He doesn't want to say it out loud, but having everyone see him in his weakened state and all of them visiting him like he's in the hospital or something will be humiliating for him. He doesn't want to look weak in front of them.

"Dipper Pines you have not gotten out of this bed in over forty-eight hours. I have to go to class but I don't want to leave you all alone. What if you hurt yourself even more?" He felt bad for keeping her here, but in his defense he never asked to be looked after. Kind of a dick thing to think, he's grateful for her really, but she should be taking care of herself first. Dipper can handle this on his own. He does it with everything else, how can this be any different?

He let out a sigh as a sharp sting in his side made him twitch. It seemed to only get worse over the few days he's rested. Healing magic can only go so far, and already having an injury doesn't allow the caster to give off enough energy to heal it completely, that would be counterproductive. So he's stuck nursing it the natural way.

Both of the twins heads swiveled towards the door as a loud knock broke through the silence between them. As Mabel got up from the bed to open it, Dipper struggled himself up into a sitting position so as not to look completely pitiful. It didn't really work all that well.

The open door revealed his Grunkle Stan. He knows why Ford couldn't make it, too caught up in his studies. Dipper's used to it by now.

The old man shuffled into the room stiffly, pulling Mabel into a hug as they had a whispered conversation. Bill and Pacifica slinked in together from behind him, both carrying a bag of who knows what. 

Mabel and Stan parted with a nod to each other, leaving Dipper with an anxious feeling crawling inside. He hates when people talk about him without him knowing, as they so clearly were with their constant glances over to him. Which is ironic considering how much the city talks about Witchboy without him hearing. 

"So!" Stan claps his hands together, making Dipper jump and grimace at the pain that wrought. That got him worried looks from Bill and Mabel. "How are ya kid? Missed work for two days so you better be dying or we're going to have to lower your paycheck." 

"Grunkle Stan you don't pay me." It's true. Stan buys food and housing, but Dipper's never gotten an actual paycheck from him. Not that he's complaining. Dipper's extremely grateful for the weekly meals because if it were just him needing to go out and buy food every day, he'd forget and starve to death. Dipper's lucky that he's a pretty smart guy. He'd gotten in to college on a full ride, even though the text books are going to put him into a little debt anyway.

"I don't? That makes things easier then. Let me just discuss some things with your sister and then we can talk about making up those days." Him and Mabel left the room, clearly to talk about Dipper again, which he didn't appreciate. Although it is in their right, considering all the problems Dipper's caused. 

After they left, Dipper was stuck with the two blondes, who immediately appeared in front of him, sitting on the bed and doting over him. Pacifica opened up her bag and started pulling multiple items that looked like bath products out. Bill lifted Dipper's arms and shirt, even taking his face and turning it side to side to assess the extent of his injuries, leaving Dipper a blushing mess all the while. A look of confusion and fascination took over Bill's eyes as he saw the cut on Dipper's stomach. 

"Where did you get this one?" Bill asked, running his fingers over the scar. Dipper's breath hitched and Bill jerked his hand away, looking at him apologetically.

"I got in a gang fight and was stabbed underneath a bridge." His sad attempt at a joke only got him blank faces from both blondes. They shared an unimpressed look with each other then continued pulling out things from their bags, dropping the topic much to Dipper's relief. Maybe they're twins too, they seem to be able to communicate telepathically.

The unanswered question fell heavy in the air, but it was ignored by the three as they continued as they were, Dipper laying still while Bill and Pacifica explained their gifts. 

"You're absolutely disgusting right now so I got you the best beauty products money can buy." Pacifica proceeded to hand him lotions, soaps, dry shampoo, "If you can't make it to the bathroom you can at least cleanse yourself of filth here," bath bombs, scented hand sanitizers, and a tool kit of very sharp metal objects that Dipper could only assume to be torture weapons. 

When he told Pacifica as much, she scoffed "Jesus Christ Dipper its a nail clipper and tweezers, not that extreme." 

While he appreciated the gifts and thanked her for them as earnestly as he could, his manly pride still felt shattered at all the traditionally girly products. Not that he had anything against men that used such products, but Dipper barely even remembered to take regular showers. The odds of all this getting used are slim to none. 

After thanking Pacifica again and promising not to misuse any of her expensive products, Bill stole the attention that he'd been patiently waiting for. Quite literally, he nearly pushed Pacifica off the bed as he moved right in front of Dipper with his bag of goodies.

"Okay, I know Mabel's probably been giving you disgustingly healthy foods to boost your immune system," She has. All home made from recipes she found online written by middle aged women trying to regain the spryness of their youth, "so I brought some stuff that will do the complete opposite."

He pulled desert boxes out of his bag, all filled with different pastries that Dipper had seen in the café the few times he looked at the actual menu and not just coffee. From their frequent chats at said café, he knew that Bill made some specific pastries while his few coworkers made their own specialty pastries. As far as Dipper could tell, these were made by Bill. His heart fluttered pleasantly in his chest at the thoughtful gift.

"Bill... You didn't have to. Both of you, thank you so much but you didn't need to go through the trouble." It had been a long time since Dipper'd gotten so much love and attention. The last time this happened was probably his birthday, although Mabel appreciated it more than he did at the time.

"It's no big deal." Pacifica examined her finger nails as she spoke in a bored voice. "Anything to get Mabel to stop complaining about you."

A pang of guilt rang through Dipper, but he quietly laughed along with Bill at the comment. As much as he liked to pretend that it's not his fault Mabel worries so much, it is completely his fault. Everything that has hurt his family since the incident with their parents has been his fault. He promised he that he wouldn't worry her anymore but he comes home with cuts and bruises, unable to move and not giving any reasons why. Dipper is not a good brother, he knows that, but it still hurts to be reminded of it.

His family chose that moment to return to the room, feigning innocence almost perfectly. Stan did anyway, although he's a notorious con man so that doesn't count. Mabel looked just as distraught as before. Dipper tried to convey another apology in his facial expressions but she shook her head minutely, deciding that the time for apologies was long past and they should work towards moving on from this and everything else they've been refusing to talk about.

"Well, thanks for agreeing to look after him. I'm gonna go out, maybe get some goodies to bring home, is everyone alright with Chinese food?" A resounding 'yes' followed Mabel's question, pulling a satisfied thumbs up out of her. The cavalry waited for the door to shut after her until they all shifted from relaxed to unsettling seriousness.

They seemed to have a silent conversation with each other, nodding heads and occasionally glancing at him from the corner of their eyes. Dipper could do nothing but frown in confusion as Bill and Stan left the room, taking the perishables to the refrigerator and giving him looks that clearly said 'good luck.' Dipper was perturbed, to say the least.

Pacifica turned on him like a snake spotting prey, with an eerily calm vitriolic acidity to her aura. Dipper subconsciously inched away from her, pulling the blanket closer to himself.

"So Dipper, here's how it's gonna be from now on." Jumping right into it then. Thats fine.

"You are gonna stop pulling shit like this. These'll heal, walk it off." She counted them off with her fingers, eyes still venomous but bodily composed. "You are going to be home more. Pull you're weight around here or I swear to Gød."

She put a prim hand to her head and looked upward as if unable to grasp the stupidity of Dipper Pines and honestly he couldn't really blame her for it. He laid shock-still in case she decided to unleash her secret of being an ancient greek myth of divine power, just like Dipper's always theorized. If he was being truthful here, which he usually isn't but in this case he is, Pacifica Northwest has always terrified him.

"I don't care if you're cryptic about whatever it is you do, just please don't be involved in something illegal or something that could come back to bite you. If any of that gets Mabel involved or hurt in any way at all, I will personally make sure you regret it. Got it?" He frantically nodded his head, eyes wide. "Mabel is a saint amongst sinners on this mess of a planet and she is the best thing thats ever happened to me. I won't _allow_ you to do anything to ruin that."

Dipper softened from his tense posture, putting his hand over Pacifica's in sympathy. He knows how much Mabel means to her. If he couldn't manage anything else she asked, he would never bring Mabel into anything. He could never put Mabel in danger, it just isn't an option. 

She tersely nodded to him again, acknowledging the silent promise he gave her. The tension in the room dissipated a bit, although he still felt it's effects. 

"Glad we could have this chat. Get well soon, or whatever." Pacifica flipped her hair and walked out of the room, following where Bill and Stan went. 

Dipper took the moment to breath, leaning back and trying to loosen the tightness of his muscles. It wasn't working but he needed to focus on something other than the throbbing pain that came from the stress.

As hard as it was to hear, he knew it had to be said. He takes Mabel for granted. That is not okay, and he knows it isn't but Dipper does it anyway. He can't help it. If he could tell everyone in his family the truth without consequence, he would. Right now is the worst time to say anything. Everyone is out to get Dipper, or at least Witchboy. That's what it feels like, that's what it is. He would rather die than get his family involved in his train wreck of a life.

It's not like he hasn't thought about all of this before multiple times. Pacifica said all the things he's said to himself, except hers included threats and conviction that he doesn't have. Evidently, it was something he needed to hear out loud, from someone other than himself. 

Lost in thoughts, he didn't notice Stan enter the room until his bed dipped with the weight of his grunkle. Now Dipper may be tired and disoriented, but he's pretty sure he knows whats going on now. His friends and family are staging an intervention. One on one time with the top three.

Grunkle Stan sat very awkwardly, which seemed to be a continuous theme for the day. Talks have never been a thing for them. Sure they got on well and they love each other, but Dipper can't remember ever having a serious talk with his grunkle. Not even after the incident involving his parents, Stan's niece and nephew. 

"Hey kiddo, between you and me, is the pain bearable? Your sister is worried. I know you probably don't tell her the complete truth of it." Stan didn't know how true the end of his statement was. A new wave of guilt washed over Dipper as he was once again reminded of it. 

"I'll be fine in a day, really. I'm probably just being dramatic." Dipper chuckled weekly, unable to look him in the eye. He hadn't really answered the question or addressed the issue but if Stan wasn't going to bring it up first, then there is no way Dipper will.

"You know we have to talk about this."

Luck has not been on Dipper's side lately.

"There's nothing to talk about. Everything's fine." Dipper sighed quietly. Lying is tiring, but he has to do it. It's the only way to keep them safe.

Stan looked him over, face intentionally blank from years of lying himself. Maybe that's yet another thing that runs in the family.

"Haven't seen you around the shop much." Stan leaned back against the wall adjacent to his bed, eyes following the spinning of the cieling fan.

"Got calls from school, you've missed classes." He turned his gaze to Dipper again. "Haven't been here for Mabel. You come home late at night, all beat up and bruised."

They were silent for a moment, staring at each other and trying not to convey any unwanted emotions. Stan looks older than Dipper's ever seen him. When did he get so old?

"Dipper, where did you get those cuts and bruises?" 

There it is. The question that everyone's avoided. He'd been preparing himself for it, but now that it's here he feels overwhelmed.

"I..." It's hard to lie. He can't lie to Stan. That's the one person he can't lie to. Both because he is a liar himself, and because Stan has worse trust issues than anyone Dipper knows. He can't add himself to the list of people that have broken his grunkle's trust.

"I can't tell you." Dipper choked out, resigned. The emotion in his voice would hopefully carry to his grunkle. No words would be enough for them to know why.

Stan hummed and nodded his head. He bit the inside of his cheek, looking older and older by the second. Nerves were high, both of them unwilling to say any more. There was more to be said though. The silence did not last long enough.

"You know you can tell us anything. Mabel and I, even Ford, we'll be here for you no matter what. We're family." Stans not usually this serious.

That was big, coming from him. All of Stans relationships were built on _not_ talking to each other. It was easier to deal with things on your own, and not involve anyone else who could get hurt from it. Mabel and Dipper tried to break that trend after learning that it was apparently not healthy to live like that. Seeing as how things are now, that obviously didn't work out. An even bigger shock, he used the 'F' word. Family. Based on his relationship with his parents and with Ford, which admittedly he doesn't tell Dipper or Mabel a lot about, family was not something that was held in high regard. Being blood-related means nothing if you don't love each other unconditionally. 

When Dipper didn't respond, Grunkle Stan sighed, rubbing the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. Dipper didn't know what to say. There was nothing he could say to alleviate the frustration that he had caused.

"Well," Stan stood up, not making eye contact with Dipper, who still stared at him inexpressively, "you'll tell us when you're ready." 

Dipper didn't know what to make of that. Did Stan know something? The list of secrets was pretty long, which one could it be? Dipper went over everything he was hiding from them in his head, looking for holes where they could've figured something, anything, out.

Staying out late, they could just assume he had a secret lover or that he was a party animal. He doubted that one. He has never been and probably never will be at ease at events involving states of carousal.

Never mind the secret itself, what really touched Dipper was that he'll 'tell them when he's ready'. How could he ever possibly be ready? Unless monsters disappear overnight and the Northwest v. Strange case subsides, this will never end. He can't tell them, in fear for their safety. And Dipper can't just stop being Witchboy, his city needs him. Don't they?

Or maybe they don't. The Demon could handle everything fine. He's got more power than Dipper does, and the love of the people despite his indifference towards them and impatient attitude towards authority. Gravity Falls doesn't need Witchboy. It never has. He's just a figurehead, like the Northwests or Strange's companies. He's a _brand_.

Getting injured this bad was a wake-up call. Everyone is doing fine without him. Witchboy taking a permanent break wouldn't rouse any complaints from the people.

"Kid? Did you hurt your head too? Now I see what Mabel was saying, you do space out a lot." Dipper pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind, although they continued to berate him despite his neglect. He looked up to find Stan looking at him worriedly.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry I'm just a little tired." His words felt like cotton in his mouth. The argument going on in his brain over his future as Witchboy was too arduous to ignore. Concentrating on his surroundings was getting harder. 

"Take it easy, Dipper." Stan patted his shoulder sincerely, giving Dipper one more pitiful smile before exiting the room.

 

-

 

Bill was the last to talk with Dipper. He didn't know wether it was just his level of closeness with the injured boy that put him at the end of the pack, or wether it was just a coincidence. Either way, Bill was feeling the pressure.

When the blonde stepped into the room he was greeted with a spaced out Dipper. That kid is always lost in his head, isn't he? The thing about always being in your own head is that you aren't aware of the faces you make. Dipper wears his heart on his sleeve every time he does this. And Bill can clearly see that his heart is not feeling too hot.

Dipper didn't notice him until he sat down on the bed, like the two people who came in here before him. They are both in the kitchenette, passing around some Pitt Cola's. He knows this because that's where he's been for the past hour, waiting for his turn to intervene on this problematic child.

"Hey." Dipper spoke up when Bill neglected to speak. How does one start these talks? Bill's only been in the human world for a few years and he couldn't use what they did in the Mindscape on this plane of existence. 

_Why do I even care about these petty human issues?_

Because they're your friends.

_Friends... Aren't something I'm used to._

Well you better get used to it. This is your life now.

Bill never really enjoyed these talks inside his head, but it comes with being a demon. Multiple opinions, clashing, all the time. It proves to be an inconvenience in situations such as these.

"Hey." Bill replied lamely. He mentally slapped himself as Dipper scrunched up his face, apparently thinking about more things that he shouldn't be thinking about. That's no good, stop that immediately.

"Um... So I brought you baked goods. Certifiably Bill-made." He cringed at himself. "I mean- What do you-? How are you doing? Pal?" Bill is a demon. These human ways greatly confuse and aggravate him. 

Dipper chuckled, a good sign hopefully. Bill perked up a bit, watching him closely for any more signs that he's doing the right thing.

"I'm better. Sorry for worrying everyone, but I'm fine." His hand subconsciously went over the scar on his stomach. Dipper didn't appear to realize he did this, but Bill did. 

The scar. If he was this injured, bruises everywhere and cuts and scrapes all over, then shouldn't that scar be more like a scab? It look healed, or Dipper could've gotten it a while ago. The scar gave him a weird sense of deja vu, but Bill can't figure out why.

It's odd, Bill is not one to forget things. Probably some inner thought that doesn't want him to know the meaning behind the enigmatic scar. That's fine, he trusts himself. Mostly. Or not at all. That's a problem for future Bill.

Not like it matters, what really gains his attention is that if the scar is older, then Dipper may have been getting injured like this for a long time. 

If Dipper's been getting hurt like this for a long time and nobody has noticed until it got serious, then Bill's gonna start feeling - _eugh_ \- _emotions._ He's already tasted the emotions he likes most. The flavor of lust is tantalizing, and excitement is always zesty. Anger's unpleasant, but he can't seem to get enough of it. It's things like _sadness_ and _remorse_ and _pity_ that just leave a bad taste in his mouth. Bill would rather not, but it seems that with the joy his new friends bring, he must also get used to despair that comes with it.

_It's better than the Mindscape._

"Fine doesnt mean good you know. Fine just means getting by." For lack of better words, Bill brought up some deep quotes from the depths of his minds.

Dipper shrugged, trying but failing to hide the wince that went with that.

"Then yeah I'm getting by, but these'll heal soon and then all of this mess will be forgotten. I just gotta-" Dipper yawned in the middle of his sentence, cutting off whatever he was going to say. Bill was curious, but not curious enough to care.

"You should get some rest Pinetree. It'd be a shame if you died from sleep deprivation and left all your loved ones with the crippling guilt of not being able to save you." Bill! No! That is not comforting!

His eye twitched and he had to hold himself back from shuddering outwardly. This hasn't been working out too well for him, and he's starting to think that maybe he wasn't cut out for human interaction just yet.

Dipper laughed nervously, eyeing Bill hesitantly. He wasn't completely freaked out, so Bill let some tension release from his shoulders. At least he could always count on Dipper to awkwardly laugh off any uncomfortable situation. What a trooper. 

"Yeah I think I will... Are you gonna stay here or...?" Dipper moved his hands around in the air, gesturing in some way that Bill did not understand the implications of.

"No I'm comfortable here, thanks." Bill replied happily, leaning back more onto the bed until he was laying over Dipper's legs.

"Oh. Okay then." Bill had a feeling that Dipper wanted to say more, but his eyes seemed to be drooping more, and he slowly fell into the pillows around him. Clear signs of being too tired to argue.

As Dipper drifted off into sleep, Bill got to thinking. 

Being a demon, and a dream demon no less, he has the ability to enter, alter, or destroy others dreams. If they're asleep of course. He can reach into their minds, pull at strings until he knows everything about them. All their history, thoughts, feelings, secrets. It is a power that no human should ever hold. Luckily, Bill isn't human.

A fleeting thought, one he knows he'd regret, passes through Bills mind as he watches Dipper fall deeper into his own dreams. 

Bill can enter Dipper's mind right at this very moment. 

It wouldn't be hard, just a touch to the head and a little concentration, and Bill would know everything about him. Things that Dipper doesn't even know about himself. Perhaps he could figure out exactly what he thinks of Bill, and if Bill's being as good a friend like he's researched about or not. He could find out secrets as insurance, should Dipper ever betray him.

No, that's not right. This isn't the Mindscape, he doesn't need to get blackmail to survive. He's Bill's friend, he wouldn't...

But he could.

When has anyone ever really cared about him? The last time Bill let his guard down around a 'friend' he'd lost an eye. Could he really trust Dipper enough to-

It's none of his business though. He's trying so hard to be human. Years of being stuck in the Mindscape can't just be undone, but he has to try. Being human has to be better than being a demon because if its not, Bill's not really sure he wants to _be_ at all.

Part of being human is, or so he'd heard, having morals. They involve not poking your nose where it doesn't belong. Like inside someones deepest darkest thoughts. As tempting as it is to ease his paranoia and just have a peek inside that cute little human brain of his, he can't. 

Bill looked over Dipper's sleeping figure once more. 

He looks so peaceful. Sure his eyes still had a whole new level of baggage under them, and he's dirty and smelly, and his hair's a mess, and Bill thinks he can see a little drool coming out of Dipper's mouth; the lines of stress that had worn down his face these past few weeks seemed to dissipate while his consciousness did. The taught muscles that Bill hadn't even realized had been tensed, were relaxed more than he's ever seen. That crazed look in his eye, like a person who hasn't slept in days and can't discern reality from dream, is hidden behind gently closed eyelids. And the nervous energy that had Dipper constantly fidgeting and bumbling over words is no longer taking him over. Instead his chest moved only with every breath and beat of his heart, the rest of his body was still except for a twitch that occasionally came from one his muscles. 

If he wasn't so goddam head over heels for Witchboy, Bill might've found a crush in Dipper. Although having a crush at all is despicable to him, he should be concentrating more on the basics of humanity, there were some magazines that told him 'how to get a boyfriend' and 'who wore it better.'

Bill's not quite sure what these things mean, but it seems that part of being human is dating an attractive boy, preferably who is a vampire or in a boy band. After reading a few of these magazines, he almost rethought his decision to become more human. 

As he looked at Dipper though, in his obliviously simple state, he understood a little better. Seeing Mabel's joy and excitement gave him whole new perspectives on what human life is about. Even Pacifica was a product of something she's not proud of, much like Bill himself, but she did what she could and is now happier and stronger than ever. Bill finds that admirable, if not inspirational. 

None of them will ever know how much this all means to Bill. The significance of even the simplest things like sharing a soda with him or asking his opinion on things. It does more for him than they could possibly understand.

So no, Bill isn't reaching into anyones mind. 

He hesitates for a second, realizing his hand is halfway to Dipper's head before pulling it back. Dipper continues to sleep, unaware of Bill tucking the blanket around him and giving him a pat on the head, leaving the room quietly so as not to wake the sleeping boy.

No, Dipper will never know just how much Bill is beginning to care for him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is gonna be dipper's full origin story!! side note; i said god like Gød because i dont want to offend any devout catholics or whatever. I'm agnostic so i'm not 100% clear on what is okay for you guys, i just dont want to disrespect, please comment on if i did anything wrong or nah. thanks! (sorry this chapter is so short i've had writers block issues with this chapter idk why) also another sorry; i have absolutely no idea how to write bill lol. i used awkward so many times in this chapter, im sorry.


	6. Witch Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper's flashback to where it all started.

Piedmont, California: March 4th

7 years ago

* * *

 

 

"Dipper! Mabel! Come on, let's go or we're going to be late!" Called the friendly voice of Alice Pines as she called for her children from the bottom of the steps.

"Now now honey, there's no rush." Robert Pines hugged his wife from behind and laid a short but loving kiss on her cheek.

Two kids, lugging identical suitcases behind them, hurried down the stairs to stop in front of their parents, both slightly breathless.

"Sorry mom, Dipper wouldn't put down his dumb science book so I politely asked if he would put it down and then he started yelling at me and-"

"Mabel that is _not_ what happened! I was reading quietly when Mabel came in and took the book right out of my hands! I had to chase her down to get it back but then she threatened to attach the pages with glitter glue!" The younger said angrily, but with little conviction.

"That didn't happen!"

"Did too!"

The couple laughed together at their children's antics, catching the attention of the twins, who soon joined in with the laughter.

This was the picture of a perfect family. All of their problems were small and easily resolved. They were simply a happy group who loved each other and the world around them.

"Come on kids, if we want to get to the cabin before nightfall, we should leave now." Their mother ushered the twins out the door and into the waiting car outside, filled with bags and coolers for the families summer camping trip.

The annual camping trip was important to the family as it was a time of bonding to them. They were very close already, but one could never have too much family bonding time.

"Oh I can't wait! I'm gonna catch so many fireflies and make friends with all the deers." Mabel said excitedly, bouncing up and down in the backseat.

"Deer. The plural of deer is deer." Dipper replied smartly, strapping in himself as the car pulled out of the driveway. Their nice suburban home waved goodbye to them in the wind, a farewell with a deeper secret than first implied. The group continued their joking and jesting for the rest of the ride, onto the highway and at every rest stop.

It was during the last stretch of road that things changed.

"I hope we get there before it gets dark, I need time to set up my telescope for the full moon tonight." Dipper chirped, eyes alight with joy at the thought of what adventures he'd partake in during the trip.

The father abruptly swerved the wheel, causing the family to scream in unison before he straightened the car out again. Mrs. Pines look to the father and they shared a look indecipherable to the two children, who were still breathing hard from the stress of the turn.

Once the parent's panicked faces separated their stare from each other, the mother turned in her seat to her children, checking on their health. When she was assured that they were okay, she slowly swiveled back to facing forward, glancing at her partner, of whom matched her gaze.

Even the two kids, young as they were, could sense the tense air in the car. The radio sang softly in the background, filling the silence with cheery pop songs, although it only made the atmosphere quieter.

The rest of the ride to the cabin where they spent their summers was filled with awkward attempts to bring back familiar conversation and uncharacteristically long faces from all of the Pines family. Dipper and Mabel tried their best to uplift their parents spirits, continuing their tomfoolery and ignoring whatever tenseness was left from the car as they exited, finally arriving at the crumbling shack.

It was apparently owned by some great uncle of theirs that moved to the city some time ago. The kids have never met the fabled Great Uncle Ford, although based on the many mysterious gadgets hidden in the cabin that they called the Mystery Shack, their great uncle was a pretty cool guy. The shingles on the roof were falling off, all worn down by the elements. As the Pines family stepped onto the porch, planks of rotting wood below them creaked and groaned, a cause for Mabel to jump on them and run into the cabin, her brother chasing after her.

As the kids stumbled through the shack to claim their respective beds for the summer, Mr. and Mrs. Pines turned to each other to address the problem they had hastily shut up about in front of their children.

"What are we going to do?" Alice looked at her husband with wide eyes, worriedly chewing on her bottom lip.

"We can't miss this. All our work these past few years will be in vain, we're going to have to do it tonight." His expression grim, Robert pulled out his phone from his pocket, thanking the world for enough bars for a call, despite them being in the middle of the woods.

"Shouldn't we wait for Ford? He said he wants to be there when it happens." But Robert was already punching in the number, bringing the phone up to his ear as the receiver rang.

"We have no choice. We're doing it tonight."

Alice didn't get the chance to reply as the old owner of the shack picked up the phone. The two still stood outside as the sun inched lower in the sky, painting it over with pink hues as it dipped down. Dipper and Mabel lay in the attic of the shack, unpacking their bags and discussing all the adventures they were gonna have that summer. Mabel took out her scrapbook and together they reminisced summers of the past, looking forward to all their summers in the future.

"I won't be able to make it in time tonight, you're going to have to do it without me." Robert gave a pointed look to his wife; her rolling her eyes back. "I won’t be able to get there any time soon but I can send my brother down in a week to check on conditions, call me as soon as you find out the results."

The couple looked at each other nervously. They had not planned on doing this alone, without an experienced person with them to guide and instruct them.

"Understood." His voice raspy, Mr. Pines hung up and stood in silence with his wife. He stared down at the phone in his hands as she stared at him, both of their brows creased with worry. It must be done after the sun sets.

With hesitation they walked into the shack, passing the falling apart furniture and shuddering windows into the master bedroom. It had a twin bed, but the couple had moved another twin right next to it years ago. It made the room much smaller but that was a small price to pay for their closeness during the night. A bookshelf stood against the wall across from the beds, filled with scientific memoirs and mystery novels that their son read whenever he wasn’t exploring the woods around them. A single lamp gave the room light; it lay on a small night table right next to the bed closest to the door.

The couple lay their bags on the bed and unpacked only the essentials, toiletries and some supplies they needed for later.

After that they left, refraining from unpacking anything else. On the way to the kitchen they called down the children for a late dinner. The sun was already going down and they wanted to do this before the sun came back up, seeing as they don’t know how long it will take to complete their project. It needed to be done under the full moon.

Dinner went well. Dipper and Mabel ate eagerly, having an actual meal after a day of nothing but chips and jerky was highly satisfying. After all the food was devoured and chatter between the kids slowed to a pleasant quietness, Mr. and Mrs. Pines took away the dishes and nodded to each other in agreement. It was time.

Mrs. Pines turned to her kids, a bright fake smile on her face. Not that the children would notice the facade.

“Time for bed kids. You’ll want to get a good night’s rest if you want to spend all day out in the woods tomorrow.” She said cheerily, her honey sweet aura calming both her kids and her husband. Anxiety was still present in the parents but she lessened it significantly.

The children complied, with some reluctant complaints. Eventually though, they trudged upstairs with heavy footsteps and gloriously full bellies.

Alice waited until they were gone, doors shut loudly and reverberating the sound throughout the house, until she set an intense stare onto her husband.

“It’s time.”

Two words had never been more grim. The shadows scattered around the house seemed to sink darker, leaving pools of inky nothingness. Their faces, despite the youthful charm others had complimented them on, were lined with worry and wrinkles of beings much older than them. It had begun to rain, the thundering hooves of a flood pounding the rooftop above them, sending in howling winds that rammed against the windowpanes.

With determined steps, they grabbed the necessary supplies from their shared room and huddled out of the house into the torrent of rain. The walk to the shed behind the house, in more disrepair than the shack itself, was short in theory yet it took an eternity.

Three pigs that were stuck in a small enclosure in back of the house were oinking wildly. Why pigs were out in the storm and near a shack in the middle of the woods was a mystery in itself. Regardless, once the shed collected Alice and Robert, they knew there was no turning back.

“Should we call Ford?” Robert asked his wife, his words clear of tremor despite the nervousness coursing through his veins.

Alice nodded, already setting down the necessities. He pulled out his phone and dialed the number for the second time that day. An alert came up.

“No service. The storm must’ve taken out the cellphone tower or something.

Alice shared a solemn look with him. They had expected as much, but the implications only added to the ever present fear floating in the air.

After putting his phone away with a moment of indecision, Robert joined his wife in placing candles around a red circle Alice had painted to the floor. The paint was dark, already drying on the cold cement floor. The smooth black candles illuminated the small space, looking like stars in the night sky because of the darkness surrounding their tiny lights. Along with the candles, papers with strange symbols and long strings of incorrigible words were laid out in the circle.

Once all of it was done, Alice grabbed a bowl from their supplies and started mixing together ingredients, mumbling incantations under her breath as she did so. Robert held an ancient looking book in his hands, flipping delicately through papyrus textured pages until he seemed to find what he was looking for. The mixture Alice had created, she had spread onto her arms and face then walked over to her husband to do the same for him.

When that was done they simply looked at each other, a sea of emotions thrashing wildly in their eyes. Alice wrapped her arms around Robert in a tight hold, he could feel her shaking as they pulled away after a second of that. It didn’t feel like enough.

With one last deep stare, they turned towards the circle. Alice moved around to the other side of the circle across from Robert, careful not to enter. The whole world seemed to still for a moment. The rain couldn’t be heard, their own breaths were falling upon deaf space. Finally, moonlight shone through cracks in the wood of the shed, falling over the circle in a silky blanket of pale blue.

They began the ritual.

Undistinguishable words filled the silence as the storm returned full force, shaking the shed with a new ferocity. The couple could hear lightning and Alice had a wavering urge to go comfort her son, who she knew would be cowering under his blankets with his sister right now.

Their chanting got louder and the candles lifted into the air, casting large shadows upon the floor and showing the wavering roof of the structure. Alice and Robert’s eyes never left each others, even as the papers they had laid out earlier caught fire and curled into balls of ash. Even as the paint from the circle began to resemble blood. They looked into each other’s petrified eyes. A single tear dropped from one of Alice’s deadwood eyes, and the world exploded.

-

Dipper heard an explosion.

Thunderbolts and lightning, he knew what they sounded like. They were frightening and caused him to need frequent cuddles from his mother. This sound though, it was not just that terrifyingly electric boom. It was a crash, a break, then a scream.

He hopped out of bed, going to shake Mabel awake from her bed across his.

“Mabel.” He whisper-yelled, shaking her shoulder. She groaned and covered herself with her unicorn comforter. Dipper sighed, typical.

Not bothering with being quiet, his sister wouldn’t wake up anyway, Dipper made his way downstairs to investigate the noise.

Flashes of thunder from outside struck across the dark shack, guiding Dipper as he crept towards a light that was flickering outside. He was not jumpy at all, no siree. Against better judgement he went outside and into the storm. Dipper had always been the curious type and despite the fear hallowing his insides he let his intuitive nature lead him.

If he thought the storm was bad inside, it was even more horrible outside. Winds pulled the trees and rain haphazardly around, almost knocking the child off his own two feet. The rain itself was slamming down against the earth with an unwieldy force, leaving divots in the mud which made it all the more difficult for Dipper to stay on his feet. He chose to ignore the monstrous thunder, putting too much effort into not flinching at every angry roar.

With shaking limbs, Dipper huddled to the side of the house, making his way around back and following the orange glow that was beckoning him gently. Black smoke obscured his view of the sky and he wondered what kind of magical creature it must be.

When he reached the back, he realized that it was not any magical creature at all.

The shed behind the house was on fire. Flames licking the sides of the burning structure, turning the rotting wood ashen black. A pig was squealing wildly in a pen next to the shed, but Dipper barely noticed. The door was ajar, and inside he could see two figures.

Bones. Smoke. Burning flesh. Loud thunder. Squealing pig. Mom. Dad.

“M-mom?” Absently, he noticed how broken his voice sounded and how he couldn’t feel the tears that streaked his face.

He stumbled forward before better judgement could impale him. The smoke was thicker inside the small space, filling Dipper’s lungs with a thick smog he tried desperately to cough up. The cement floor had been cracked straight through the middle, opening into a shallow pit of dirt. Ashes dusted the entire inside of the shed and added to the fumes strangling Dipper.

None of that mattered though.

“Dad!” He cried, reaching out with small hands to the two burning piles of flesh and bones that matched the shape of his parents, although mangled and unrecognizable.

A board fell from the roof of the shed, falling like a flaming meteor in front of him, preventing him from moving to his parents. The creaking and snapping of wood caused Dipper to push himself out of the shed just as it collapsed in on itself,erupting a thousand sparks from the fall. He let out a whimper as he lost sight of his parents bodies.

Some of the sparks landed on him, pricking his little feet and uncovered arms. Then a strange blue light burst from the debris, slamming Dipper to the ground. He laid dazed for a second before his vision turned white.

For a moment everything was still. The fire was gone, the noises stopped, panic subsided.

Then everything came back full force, giving Dipper only a second to see his shocked and horrified sister’s face above his before it knocked him out.

-

Dipper woke up on the old moth bitten couch in the living room. It was a nice couch. Old as it may be, many fond memories held ownership to this couch. Now though, Dipper could think of nothing merry. His mind was stuck on a reel, replaying what he saw in his mind permanently.

“Dipper.” A small voice came from his left. He turned his head and saw his sister sat next to the couch on the floor. Her knees were pulled up to her chest as she rested her head on them. A pig was laying down next to her, curling around her side like a cat.

He didn’t say anything. Just turned his head back to face the ceiling, trying to stop the images burned into his head.

“ _Dipper_.” She said more incessantly. He turned his head to her again, ignoring the fire he couldn’t unsee, and saw tears running rapidly down Mabel’s cheeks. The knot that was pulled tight inside of him finally snapped and an overload of emotion rushed to his throat.

"Mabel... They're _gone_." The last word broke into a sob as he began wailing, his sister joining in.

They made it into each others arms, crying as loud as their little voices could. Dipper was blubbering madly about fire and noise while Mabel repeated "Why?" over and over again, clutching onto her brother.

It must have been over an hour before their tears dried up and their throats grew sore. Still in each others arms, they laid down on the couch, small enough that they could just barely fit on together. The only sound for an eternity was their struggling breaths and the quiet snorts of the pig.

"What are we gonna do?" Mabel whispered, breaking the silence. Dipper didn't want to think about anything, didn't want to look forward to the future. What kind of future could they have without their parents there with them?

"I don't know." He answered only to ensure his sister that she wasn't alone. He didn't want to speak but his sister needed to hear someone. Needed someone to listen.

She continued talking, filling the silence with mindless speech. Probably something about calling someone or how she had planned to go on a picnic with everyone that day, Dipper guesses. He wasn’t really listening, too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

Her chatter was cut off by a grumble coming from one of their stomachs. She chuckled despite the situation. Dipper was confused, why is she ignoring what’s happened?

“Someone’s hungry! Let’s get some lunch, shall we?” Mabel said, continuing to talk aimlessly as she pulled up Dipper and dragged him into the kitchen.

“So I’m thinking, we build a time machine and-” Her rant ended abruptly upon coming into the kitchen, where it appears the pig had gotten into their refrigerator.

“Waddles!” She fumed, aghast. Why she named the pig that, Dipper would never know.

Food was scattered across the floor, bits of it. The refrigerator was empty, save for three cans on Pitt-Cola that was on a shelf too high for a pig to reach.

“Oh no! How am I supposed to make my special pancakes now?” She complained.

The blubbering started up again with more intensity. Tears made a reappearance to her eyes as the talk turned into sobbing. Dipper quickly embraced her as she cried onto his shoulder.

“Why?” She asked again in a broken voice, clutching the back of his shirt weakly. He didn’t answer.

After two days, the water shut off.

After three, the little food they had unrefrigerated ran out.

The power had been out since the storm. Dipper never asked what happened to the fire from the shed, he couldn’t even look at the back of the house.

Day six, and they hadn’t moved from the couch. Starving and holding onto each other, the pig had been miraculously forgiven and was curled up on Mabel’s side. This was how Stan Pines found them a day later.

“Kids?” They’d heard him come into the shack, but had been too exhausted to do anything about it.

As soon as he came into the room, shock overtook his expression but he quickly brushed it off and ran over to the kids, taking them up in his arms. Had they any more tears, they would’ve been shed.

“What happened?” He asked in his achingly familiar gruff voice. Dipper almost smiled at the sound of someone else.

They looked at him wordlessly, then shared a sad look with each other. Mabel shook her head and buried it in Stan’s chest. Dipper still stared. He hadn’t spoken much since that day he woke up.

Stan, his face grim with understanding, took them out to his rusty old car.

Vaguely, Dipper realized he got buckled in. Barely, he noticed Stan run to the back of the house. Dipper wanted to call out a warning to him, he didn't want to see what grisly remains were back there, but he still couldn’t speak.

Their great uncle took a while to get back to the car, and when he did he didn’t look at either of the kids.

“I’m sorry.”

They said nothing.

He started the car with no more words and drove them back to who Stan knew was responsible for this. He drove them back to Gravity Falls, ready to give Ford the fight of his life.

-

It had been a year since the incident and things were almost back to normal.

Their depression had lasted less than what the therapists they’d been sent to had assumed and they quickly got in the swing of things in Gravity Falls.

The people of the city loved them. Two cute kids in need of love, it was perfect for every old person that lived there.

Dipper started talking after a month and he used the next month to make up for how much he missed by talking as much as possible. He made friends with people at school, attracted customers at the shop, and even got hermit Ford to come out of hiding.

That’s what Stan told him anyway. The real reason Ford was out was because when Stan had brought the children and told him what his little project had done, the guilt destroyed him, and ate him every time he looked at the little kids who saw too much.

None of them spoke about it though. The only time anyone referred to it was by calling it 'The Incident' and if anyone tried to pry, the kids and grunkles expertly avoided the topic. Luckily after a while, the locals stopped their investigations.

It was during the anniversary of this ‘incident’ that Dipper decided to confront his great uncle on what he knew. It was obvious he knew something about their parents deaths, the look on his face every time the topic was brought up made it crystal clear.

Dropping down into the basement that Ford hailed, Dipper found himself alone. Papers scattered the area, covering the floor and desks with teachings and grimoires. Upon the wall hung tapestries portraying some fantastical place that Dipper noted looked similar to a two-dimensional Narnia. Broken metal and bronze pieces littered the area, leaving a trail of screws and oil in their place. But no Ford hovered over any of the trinkets, which allowed Dipper to take his time and explore.

It was in this exploration that the young boy stumbled upon an even stranger looking tome than the others. It, unlike many of the other books around the room, was neatly placed on the center desk of the three desks in the room, open to a page that had chicken scratch and doodles.

Dipper was an expert at reading chicken scratch, seeing as that’s what he writes in, so translating the writing was easy. The page appeared to be about humans with powers much like the monsters that Dipper had seen terrorizing the city.

That's where the story truly began.

 

-

 

Witch Boy was a title he hadn't chosen for himself. Dipper just wanted to help, but the tabloids decided he was the new protector of the city, a hero in their time of need.

Dipper only wanted to do what he thought was best, he couldn't take on the responsibility of a whole city.

But articles were written, pictures were taken, merchandise capitalized, and Dipper understood with solemn integrity that it was too late to do anything to stop it. He had a duty now, whether he wanted to or not. This duty took things from him. No longer a normal teenager, he pushed his friends away in a panic. His grades dropped abruptly as he stood on a podium of heroism with baby deer legs. He dismissed everyone who wondered why he suddenly reverted to what he had been like directly after the incident. It was years before he got back to normal and even then, he wasn’t the same.

Patrol was going normally or as normal as it could go at least. A few straggling monsters he'd had to tie up and leave for whomever took them. Dipper wasn’t yet sure where exactly the creatures he tied up were sent to or who took them, but he never saw the same one again. Most were part of a population, but there were those few that were entirely unique. Sometimes they even announced themselves in a villainous monologue.

It was a quiet day, considering. A few days after the anniversary of their mysterious deaths and revelation of his power.

He liked being alone these days. It’s hard to see the pity in his grunkles’ expressions and the pain in Mabel’s. Even though they should be together, work through it as a family, it hurts too much.

Dipper had to duck as a sudden flying gnome flew, yelling, over his head. The sounds of fire that he hadn’t noticed before brought him to attention, standing and looking towards the light show of blue fire and cackling.

That’s odd. Not many humans turn out to be the ones antagonizing a fight although there are a few, but it never goes farther than picket signs and nobody is participating it with any sign of glee, such as this.

The gnome behind him screamed and ran away, bumping into things in it’s panic to get away. What kind of monster could terrify the mainly harmless gnomes?

Deciding to investigate, Dipper swan dived from the building, using his rope at the last minute to latch onto a traffic light and swing to a stop in front of the brouhaha taking place.

“Take that you moldy bread sticks! And some of this! And some of that!” The new monster was unlike any Dipper had ever seen. He completely looked human.

In the middle of a roaring luminescent blue fire, holding a poor gnome by it’s tunic and kicking away the rest, stood a handsome and disturbing man.

His honey golden hair hid dark brown roots that melted onto his head like chocolate. Tan skin covered him and shined in the fire surrounding them. He wore an embroidered black suit jacket with pointed coattails that dropped all the way to the back of his feet, which were encased in black heeled boots that came up to his knees. Gold tights clutched his lean legs up all the way, only leaving him with a shred of decency in the form of black shorts that were frankly, _way too short_. Underneath his black suit jacket was a stunning gold vest that hugged his form over an inky black button up shirt. A hideous bow tie lay around his collar, golden as the tights and vest and resembling something like the trash from Sailor Moon. Most prominent though was the intricate masquerade mask hiding his face and the thin top hat that floated above his head.

“What is going on here?” Dipper demanded, halting the carnage coming from this… person. The man turned to him and Dipper almost gasped aloud at the eyes that locked with his. One red as the blood from a deadly cut, surrounded by a charcoal black sclera, the other matching a sunflower shining in the light of the skies.  

Then he grinned demonically, making his attractiveness turn into a to-be-feared power and sending a shiver up Dipper’s spine. The man threw the gnome he was holding over his shoulder, the rest of the clan scuttling away from their tormentor.

“Well, well, well, well, well, _well_!” The man said each word with a step towards Dipper, who didn’t move from his spot. The grin hadn’t left the man’s face and even widened more as Dipper lifted his chin when he came to a stop in front of him.

“What do we have here? Cape, mask, I see some _dangerous_ looking potions strapped around your positively _sinful_ waist. Gasp! Could it be? Are you the famous, the dreamy, the most powerful and handsome,  _Witch Boy_?” He said with a dramatic flair, twirling his arms around with emphasis.

Dipper pouted and self consciously put his hands on his hips. _Sinful_?

“And if I am?” He dared to question, trying not to be intimidated by the man but an inch shorter than himself.

The man tsked and frowned mockingly at Dipper.

“Then this is gonna be a problem. You see, if you really are the protector of Gravity Falls, then I guess we’ll have to _fight_.” Before Dipper could prepare himself, the man punched him in the gut and flipped away, his hands ablaze with a new round of blue fire.

Dipper reacted, arms pulling away from their clutching of his newly injured stomach, and flinging two powder bombs from his pouches at his new enemy. The man jumped to the side and avoided them, throwing a fireball of his own to the side of Dipper. The fight may have began suddenly, but Dipper was nothing if not ready to fight.

This wasn’t his first rodeo though, he easily rolled away from the flames and dropped a charmed weapon the shape of a grenade to the ground, muttering a quick spell, he kicked it to the man who was grinning with delight.

“Oh I’ve always wanted to fight you Witchy! This is so exciting isn’t it?” He kicked the charmed grenade back and Dipper’s eyes widened as he had to jump to the left in an attempt to avoid it. The stun blast knocked him back a bit and he barely had time to get to his feet again when the man in the top hat started sprinting towards him, arms now covered in a dusty space-like substance.

Dipper flipped himself up and dodged the punch, the dusty arm in the air where his head was a moment before. Dipper grabbed the arm and flipped him over, causing him to land on his back with an ‘ _oomf’_.

“ _Clauditis_.” Dipper panted, quickly dropping down to straddle his rival, holding his hands locked at the sides of his head and staring down into the shocked man’s face.

“Who are you?” He ordered the question like a command, trying to be serious despite the shaking in his arms as he held the other down with the spell.

“I can be whoever you want me to be baby.” He winked suggestively, disarming Dipper as he stuttered to reply. In his moment of weakness the other wrenched his arms away from Dipper and bucked him off, cartwheeling away and standing coyly now a good distance from the blushing superhero.

“That was a quick fight. _Tsk tsk_ , I expected more from the critically acclaimed protector of Gravity Falls.” He shook his head disappointedly as Dipper got up, brushing himself off and looking warily at the confusing man.

“Who are you?” Dipper repeated, trying to look as important as the city seemed to think he was.

A genuine smile came upon the man’s face as he clasped his hands behind his back.

“The gnomes called me Devil Eye. But really, I’m just a demon. Gravity Falls’ newest antihero!” The Demon bowed winking at Dipper once more as the latter took a step back in alarm.

A demon? It shouldn’t be so shocking, he’s faced so many monsters before but never a demon. Especially not such a human-like creature. Definitely not one who ended the fight before anyone could truly win.

“Now, I really gotta go. I’ve had my fun and I don’t want to keep you from your heroic duties. See you soon probably, I have a feeling we’ll be running into each other a lot from now on.” Then blue flames encircled him, taking him away from existence and leaving Dipper in a state of mild confusion, mild panic.

After a second of standing amidst the ruined street, he uttered only one phrase:

“What the fuck?”

 

* * *

 Present Day:  

 

Dipper woke up with a gasp, clutching his beating heart and flickering his eyes wildly around the room.

How long had it been since he dreamt?

He shook his head, hands rubbing at his eyes. No, it wasn’t a dream, it was a series of memories, replaying in his mind and teasing him with the past.

That certainly hadn’t been the last time he saw the Demon. For months after, he followed Witchboy around, popping up in the middle of every battle and checking in on him. It became kind of endearing. The Demon still terrorized multiple creatures and people alike in Gravity Falls, but while doing this he begged to join up with Dipper in what he called ‘The Ultimate Power Couple of Gravity Falls’

Dipper had shaken his head as Demon insisted “Get it? Power? Because we’re superheroes?” in that annoying voice he'd used when they first met.

Eventually he actually matured enough to politely request a union of their persons to form a monster-fighting team of incredible domination. Dipper agreed in the end, if only to end the torment of the Demon.

The two together, inseparable since, got Dipper to become a better person. With help, he finally got out of the funk he was in and was able to spend time with his family and not drop out of college.

Dipper was slowly pulled out of his thoughts as he drowsily listened to the faint television broadcast in the other room. Mabel must’ve come back because he could faintly smell the Chinese food she had promised to bring home.

_“An unknown number of hostages are still being held at The Gravity Fall’s museum at this time. The assailant is unknown but they have sent out a number of hostages already, each with a message of demands to see the protector of Gravity Falls. I’ve just gotten word that Devil Eye has shown up but seems unable to enter the building. Where is Witch Boy?”_

Dipper tumbled out of bed in a mess of blankets. His face pale and tight with pain as a groan left his mouth. Mabel came rushing in as he struggled to get up, her trying to push Dipper back into bed, which he refused to do despite the pain. The television continued on about the event in the background of their scuffle.

This is where Witchboy is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> props to my friend Gina for helping me with this chapter. The next chapter wont be out for a while sorry. I've got A LOT of shitty schoolwork that I need to do and I'm not exaggerating when I say a lot, it's gonna kill me. But that's fine, hope you enjoyed the chapter please comment and leave kudos or whatever! Tbh im not that happy with this chapter but whatever I wrote it and I gotta get something out for those of you who actually read it <3


	7. Experiments

Dipper arrived at the museum in less than ten minutes, leaving Mabel with some excuse about stretching his legs and needing to buy milk. What he came to find was not a pretty scene.

Cop cars were stationed around the parking lot and officers surrounded the building, all bearing the seal of the Northwests on their backs. Oh joy. Dipper decided he didn't want to mess with them at that moment, and instead teleported to the roof of the building.

As he landed he quickly scanned the area and saw a window from which he could drop into the building like a spy or something incredibly cool like that, that Dipper really isn't. When he dropped down into the prehistoric area of the museum, narrowly avoiding a caveman replica, he immediately heard the obnoxious voice of his partner coming from a room adjacent to him. Dipper crept cautiously over and peeked behind the corner to survey the scene in the marine exhibit.

Blue lights outlined dark figures nervously shuffling back and forth, surrounded by an electric fence. Well, water was spilled on the ground in a circle and the other side of a plug was tossed into it so Dipper assumed it was some sort of electric barrier. A couple feet from the silhouetted hostages were the Demon and some other man in a strange, purple, scaly looking armor. It covered his entire body, including his face, save for two black eye designs. A purple tail twitched behind him and large horns twisted on his head.

Whatever creature this was, it looked like it once was or is human, kinda like how Centy looked vaguely humanoid except for some separating features. Demon looked smug as always, immediately noticeable by his posture, arms crossed over his lean chest and head tilted boldly to the side. The two seemed to be talking with each other animatedly, each caught in a stubborn debacle.

"Look, I'm sure Witchy will be here any second can you please stop demanding to see him? He's a busy guy! Letting the rest of the hostages go might make the line to meet him a little smaller so you might wanna do that. Sounds like a solid idea to me." Demon reasoned, keeping his posture relaxed. Neither of the two seemed to notice Dipper sneaking over to the hostages. 

"I need him. Why did _you_ have to show up and not him?" The purple man paced back and forth angrily. Someone seems a little impatient. 

"Well you don't have to say it like that, great purple dinosaur. Am I not good enough for you?" Demon replied hotly. Before he seemed slightly antsy, a tenseness in his posture that Dipper was unused to seeing. But as Dipper inched closer to the quieting down civilians, his posture relaxed and confidence increased. He was plenty confident before, but now that he had supposedly noticed Dipper's presence, he seemed somehow more so. 

The hostages had seen Dipper coming with promises of help and had gotten quieter, enough so that a vigilant person would have noticed. The villainous dragon man however, continued on with a tangent about what he was gonna do if Witchboy didn't show up immediately. Well Witchboy's here, and he's not too happy about some of those implications. 

" _Duratus._ " He whispered into his hands, forming a cloud of shining blue snow which he dropped onto the water. As soon as it made contact, the electric water around the hostages froze and became much less threatening. 

Dipper could see Demon's patience wearing thin as he ushered the hostages quietly out of the circle and away to safety. The Demon didn't turn out to be the one he should've been worried about.

"Aha! Finally the guest of honor arrives. Oh but it seems he's trying to take all the party favors, now thats no good." With a flick of his scaly wrist, the purple man flung all the civilians out of the room and slammed them into some exhibit in the other room. Dipper let out a breath that at least they were away from this man. "We don't need them to have a good time anyway. We just need you, pretty boy." 

He held his hand out and Dipper felt his body being pulled forcibly and ferociously towards the man and into his waiting hand, now tight around Dipper's throat, choking him. Dipper heard a strangled noise come from Demon and looked to his left to see a furious expression on his face.

"Ah ah ah! I wouldn't if I were you, one more step and I'll break little witchy's neck. And I don't want to hear one spell of magic out of you either mister! Let's see if you're still 'the great and powerful protector of Gravity Falls' without your silver tongue in your mouth." With his other hand he snapped his finger and produced a roll of duct tape. Using his teeth, he ripped a piece off and stuck it over Dipper's mouth. With a panicked start, Dipper felt a physical disconnection to his powers. 

_Without my voice, I can't say my spells._

Also the hand around his throat was making it kinda hard to breathe. He couldn't gasp for breath, so the loudest sound in the room was his heavy pants through his nose. The man in choking him looked positively delighted.

"If you want to live, I suggest putting him down. Right. Now." Demon's voice was deep. Dangerous sounding. It was a tone Dipper had never heard before in all their years together. This tone was reserved for mob bosses who've lost their daughters, army men who are meeting the dictator who's killed their partners in combat. This voice was not the Demon that Dipper knew, it was the one who was born and raised in the Mindscape, one that knew there were worse things than the rest of humanity. 

The thing is, Dipper could feel the power radiating off of the purple man. It was the same or at least similar to Demon's power. Could the purple man also be from the Mindscape? Would Demon even be able to win if they fought?

Dipper was losing breath.

His vision was slowing darkening to the point the world seemed black. The hands that were previously clutching onto the ones around his neck fell limp to his sides. The wound in his side throbbed as blood was pooled up to his neck, unable to squeeze through to his foggy brain. 

"Let him go!" 

Dipper wasn't sure, but he could vaguely feel a dark power coming from where the Demon stood, raw energy that left Dipper feeling cold and scared. He could feel the same coming from the purple man.

"Now I don't think I will! He's sent so many of my kind to the collectors -and dont be so ignorant to assume that they do any good to us! Why not let him have some of that karma that he always seems to allude? What do you say Witchboy? Aren't you all about fairness and justice like every other hero? Oh? Can't speak? What a shame." 

Shame dripped into Dipper. He couldn't do anything else with the creatures, they're dangerous. What was he supposed to do? _Excuses_ , his mind supplied him with but he refused to believe that what he was doing was wrong.

The grip on his neck disappeared. His nose started inhaling as much as it could as his hands clawed at the tape over his mouth. He couldn't get it off. He couldn't even think about any wordless spells, if there were any, only air. The purple man kicked his injured side, making Dipper fall over and curl up in pain.

"Do you know how they feel now? Squabbling on the floor, hurt because of _you."_ He kicked Dipper again, this time in the head. Dipper curled into himself, hands covering his head. "And another thing-"

He didn't find out what the other thing was as the purple man's sentence was cut off, quite literally, as Demon came out with newly grown black talons as fingers and sliced the purple man across the face, bouncing off the man's metallic costume with a clang. 

"I said let him go. That implies to not  _fucking_ touch him again you putrid shit-eating snake." Demon's voice was low and intimidating, scaring the hell out of Dipper, but the purple man seemed unaffected by it. He tilted his head to Dipper from where he was curled up behind a protective Demon.

_Come on get up Dipper, you look weak. Get up. Fight for yourself._

Dipper yelled at himself until he managed to get up onto his feet. The purple man's posture turned amused at that, which pissed everyone else in the room off a lot. 

"Quite big words from such a small fry. Don't you worry your pretty little head, I won't maim him just yet. I'll wait until more of the collectors' experiments escape until I get the chance to experiment on you, Witchboy. Ta, ta, now!" With that, the purple man twirled and in a haze of black mist, disappeared. 

Demon waited a good minute before whirling on Dipper and checking him all over for injuries, of which Dipper had nothing serious. He tried to say this to his partner, but the tape still over his mouth turned his words into muffled grunts.

The Demon didn't say a word as he checked. There was an unfamiliar blaze in his gold and red eyes that warranted worry from Dipper. As he got the hint and tried tearing off the tape, he continued to seethe in silence. 

Eyes softening, Dipper put his hand over the Demon's shaking one, moving his so it rested on his cheek. Dipper gave him a meaningful look and winded his fingers with the Demon's, pushing a small amount of magical energy into him. The Demon's eyes widened with understanding and he whispered an incantation, finally letting the tape fall off Dipper's mouth like a leaf swaying in the wind. Demon stepped back as it fell, a light blush on his face.

After taking in a few breaths and gathering his thoughts, Dipper looked him in the eyes.

"What do we do now?"

Before Dipper could even get out the question, Demon dropped it on him, which meant he didn't know the answer either. 

"Well I mean what else can we do? We can't just stop giving the steroid induced monsters back to the collectors even if its their fault. Where are we supposed to put them? But giving them back wouldn't solve the problem. Maybe we can get Strange's company to take them? Aren't they super into the creatures, maybe they could help? What do we do? What are our options? Do we even have any? I mean we can't do anything that will make everyone happy, can we? We don't get paid we can't fund a farm or something, but isn't that what the people do with sick creatures? What are the collectors even doing? And who was that purple guy, he had powers like you is he from the Mindscape too, sorry for mentioning that place I know you don't like it brought up but still-"

Dipper's panicked ramblings were cut off as Demon put a finger to his lips. His eyes moved up until they locked with Demon's again. He was breathing heavy yet again from the excursion. 

"We are not going to give these creatures back to the collectors. These creatures may be monsters but so am I, we have to look out for them." A serious look of determination overcame Demon's features, causing Dipper's thoughts to stutter. 

Dipper didn't want to voice his own thoughts, which were opposite of Demon's. The citizens safety was their number one priority, wasn't it? More important than the creatures, surely. And Demon wasn't a monster, he's.... Him. Dipper scrunched up his face thinking about what to classify the Demon as.

"I can take them... I'll find some place to put them and I'll... do something to make sure they're well cared for." The Demon scrounged up an answer for them. Personally, Dipper didn't care what happened as long as they were out of the streets, and he let the Demon know his thoughts.

"Anything so that they're not invading the people's lives." Dipper agreed, nodding his head to Demon's plan. His partner scrunched up his eyebrows at the statement.

"What do you mean 'invading'? How do you know my kind wasn't here first?" Demon stepped back from Dipper, defensively crossing his arms.

"Your kind? D, you're nothing like them-"

" _Them?_ There's a _them_? You know that we're all individuals, right?" Demon scowled as Dipper hurried to try and amend the conversation.

"I know that it's just, well, look the citizens of Gravity Falls are our top priority in this mess."

"We  _are_ citizens of Gravity Falls! What, just because we're not human means we have to be locked up?" Demon was fuming.

"That's not what I'm saying!" Dipper began to panic, Demon's anger affecting him.

"No, no that's exactly what you're saying. I never thought you of all people would be so... so ignorant! "

"Well if you feel that way maybe you should leave my 'ignorant' self and join your little _friends_ in the collectors lab!"

Dipper was breathing heavy and regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. He was just so... _angry_ at how defensive Demon was being. Seeing the hurt look of disbelief on Demon's face though, cause him to put a hand over his mouth, wide-eyed at what he'd just said. 

The Demon had a moment to look utterly stunned before anger took over him and he spun on his heel, refusing to even look at Dipper.

"Fine." He said brokenly, not turning back as he prepped for a teleportation spell. "If that's how you feel, I guess I'll leave you. After all, I am just a danger to the citizens of Gravity Falls, aren't I?" 

Before Dipper had the chance to apologize, Demon was gone, leaving a burst of flames that knocked Dipper back a few feet. Looking at the scorch marks on the floor, Dipper let the misery overpower him, and he fell to his knees. 

They hadn't had an argument like this _ever_. Not even when they first met and got in an actually physical fight. The emotional wounds hurt much more than the physical ones back then had. Despite the feeling of despair, Dipper couldn't help but think he was still right. They needed to be locked up. And if Demon considered himself one of them then maybe he should be locked up as well.

Dipper shook his head at the thought. No, he wasn't like the creatures terrorizing the streets. Demon has morals... Questionable morals, but still morals.

Whoever was right, Dipper still had one less partner, and one more enemy. 

 

-

 

Dipper's week was going miserably. 

With Demon's disappearance, partially because of Dipper partially because Demon is a stubborn liberal, Dipper was now alone in fighting all the horrid creatures that began to plague the streets. 

These new steroid induced -or at least that's what Dipper assumes- monsters have been pouring out in waves, and every time he ends up defeating them with a new batch of bruises, cuts, and burns, they mysteriously poof away in a haze of blue fire. Dipper can guess who's taking them. The collectors are becoming annoyed now when they show up to find nothing but a sad Witchboy and scorched floors.

Dipper's not so worried about the collectors anymore though. If the purple man was right and they were the ones experimenting on the creatures, at least Demon was taking them away to safety. Even though crime-fighting has gotten incredibly lonely and Dipper is in a constant state of seething rage or melancholy, it's fine.

Everything is fine.

Except it isn't. Thanks to the creatures poofing away and his college's winter break, there has been a distinct lack of things to do. He thought being free of all the responsibility would feel relaxing, but all he's feeling is antsy and on-edge. Every small incident becomes a huge disaster, and Mabel has gotten fed up with his drama. 

"You just spilled a little milk. It's fine, please stop crying!"

It's been a rough week.

Dipper brought the carton of milk closer to his body and hugged it as he sniffled. It wasn't the milks fault; it didn't have to be spilled. It was all Dipper and that's why he was crying.

"It's all my fault!" He whined from his curled up position on the floor of their kitchen. He knew he was being dramatic but he couldn't help it. So much has been happening lately, he thinks he's having a breakdown.

"Dipper shh it's okay, it's not a big deal, see?" Mabel leaned over and cleaned up his mess with paper towels. She looked at him worriedly until he nodded and gave her the carton of milk.

"Sorry Mabel. I'm so sorry." He mumbled, shocking her by giving her a fierce hug. She returned it after a second, rubbing his back with a gentle hand. "I think I've just been a little stressed lately."

She nodded understandingly, humming in thought for a moment. With a new alight look on her face, she pulled back from the hug and smiled warmly at Dipper.

"I have an idea to help you relax! We'll get the gang together and have chill day at home, I can go to the store real quick and we can have a pizza-making contest. That always cheers you up!" She smiled excitedly at the idea of pizza, but patiently waited for Dipper's response.

Dipper didn't really think he was up to it, having people over while he was like this. He hadn't seen Bill or Pacifica in a while though, it might be nice to spend some time with them and act like everything was normal.

"Sure Mabel, that sounds real swell." He said wearily, trying for a smile that was surprisingly sincere.

Mabel clapped her hands together, causing Dipper to flinch, and stood up, dragging him with her as she moved into the living room. He tried to grab for his glass of milk but missed. He pouted after it as he was pulled farther away.

As she started blabbering on about who knows what, Dipper sunk into the futon in their small living room that was attached to the kitchen. It was getting harder and harder to think lately. Dipper wishes he could just sit down and rationalize but every time he attempted to, he just began overthinking. It was a a vicious cycle. 

Before he knew it, Pacifica arrived at their humble abode, Bill appearing not long after. The night was then filled with video games and mindless chatter, Dipper feeling out of it but trying hard to join in the fun. It was only an hour or so in when they unanimously decided it was time for the pizza-making contest.

"Alright folks you know what time it is! Are you ready to rumble!" Mabel rolled in with an announcer's voice.

"Mabel we're not fighting, it's just pizza. Please put down the ladle." Dipper couldn't help the small grin that prodded at his cheeks as Mabel pouted and put her faux-microphone back in the drawer. 

"Why is everything a competition when I hang out with you two?" Bill asked, unable to keep his own smile off his face. He'd seemed quiet throughout the night, but he gave smiles where they were due and participated in each activity. 

"How else are we gonna decide who's the stronger twin. Hint: it's me." Mabel gloated before Dipper could respond. He didn't say anything to disprove it. Mabel was definitely the stronger twin. Maybe she should've been the superhero and Dipper could go on with his normal life. That would've been so much easier for everyone. Dipper felt the unfairness of it all and suddenly everything heightened all at once. Oh great more overthinking. Abort! 

"I -uh, I have to go get the -uh, salt! From my room. Anywaygottagobye!" He dashed out of the room leaving a weirded out Pacifica, worried Mabel, and calculating Bill behind.

He slammed the door as soon as he was in his room and let the thoughts take over. He was shaking, his eyes were darting all around the room, unable to focus, everything was just too _loud_. Tears wouldn't fall but they didn't need to, he was feeling the effects in his gut anyway. It was too much, he sank to the floor and tried everything to loosen up the racing thoughts. This all had come up at once, he didn't know what triggered it and that's possibly the scariest thing about it.

Belatedly, he heard his door squeak open and from the corner of his eye he saw a figure. 

A million warning thoughts splashed up and he backed away from the intruder, shaking his head no and feeling his throat close up, unable to tell them to leave. 

"P-please." His scratchy voice came out as if through an ocean of loud thoughts. He could barely hear himself or what the other person was saying, if they were saying anything at all. The person crouched down in front of Dipper and a soothing voice started to make it through the cloud. 

It went on for a while. Dipper trying desperately to calm down while the person whispered words that he could focus on. Eventually, Dipper calmed enough to see it was Bill and the initial panic of 'who the hell is this guy' fell away into a comforting 'I know this guy.' 

Without thinking, Dipper fell forward and hugged him. His body exhausted and his mind a tangled mess, he refused to think about how Bill would react, effectively numbing his thoughts.

As he pulled back he noticed for the first time something in Bill's eyes. A look that he'd seen in his own face since the start of all this stress he's been having. The look of defeat. In contrast to his own thoughts, Bill's lacked the small spark of hope.

"What happened?" He found himself asking without meaning to. Bill turned his head away for a second before looking back, the look in his eyes gone and replaced with worry.

"Well I think you just had an attack." Dipper didn't correct him, or mention the sudden change in his eyes. 

After some time of just sitting there and holding each other, they went back to their friends like nothing happened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long, ive been in in-patient and then partial and THEN i had to find the energy and motivation to write. it's been rough. srry its a short chapter and actually its pretty bad sorry ive just had a lot going on sorry yikes.

**Author's Note:**

> The first act is gonna be pretty peaceful. but im planning all downhill from there :) please comment and tell me how to do a better job, thanks! also, is the latin italicized? I did it in word and copy/pasted it on here but it didn't show up. sorry i've never posted on this site before.


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